YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH 
ALBERT S. COOK, Editor 

XXV 

BARTHOLOMEW FAIR 

BY 

BEN JONSON 

EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND GLOSSARY 

BY 

CARROLL STORRS ALDEN, Ph.D. 

Instructor in English and Law in the United States Naval Academy 




NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

1904 



YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH 



ALBERT S. COOK, Editor 



XXV 

BARTHOLOMEW FAIR 

BY 

BEN JONSON 

EDITED WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES, AND GLOSSARY 

BY 

CARROLL STORRS ALDEN, Ph.D. 

Instrtictor in English and Law in the United States Naval Academy 




NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

1904 



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PREFACE 

Bartholomew Fair has a twofold interest. It furnishes 
a picture, inimitable in its varied realism, of one of the 
most characteristic scenes of Elizabethan London. It also 
reflects not a little the personality of Jonson as he moved, 
a man among men, and enjoyed to the full the rough, 
hearty life of the middle and lower classes of the metropolis. 
Consequently, though the play is not artistic in the highest 
sense, and is avowedly light in character, it holds a place 
of importance in Jonson's work and in the Elizabethan 
drama. 

Of the playwrights of his time, Jonson especially made 
London his province; and of all his plays Bartholomew 
Fair is the most local in atmosphere. This quality, though 
constituting the chief excellence of the comedy, is to-day 
the greatest hindrance to an intelligent appreciation of it. 
Accordingly, in the Introduction and the Notes I have dwelt 
particularly on what concerned the life and thought of the 
people. In such a study contemporary literature, as well as 
later scholarship, is of course invaluable, and much of the 
Introduction and Notes will be found to be but a restate- 
ment, and a bringing together, of what is not new, nor 
altogether unfamiliar. My aim has been to present data 
of unquestionable authority, and to make easy of access 



iv Preface 

materials which will assist the scholar to enter into the 
spirit of London and of the Smithfield Fair at the time 
of our play. 

A portion of the expense of printing this thesis has been 
borne by the Modern Language Club of Yale University 
from funds placed at its disposal by the generosity of Mr. 
George E. Dimock, of Elizabeth, New Jersey, a graduate 
of Yale in the Class of 1874. 



CONTENTS 



I. Introduction 

1. Editions of the Text 

2. The Annual Bartholomew Fair 



PAGE 

vii 
vii 

X 



3. Jonson's Bartholomew Fair: its General 

Features . . . . . . xii 

4. Jonson's Satire hi the Puritans . . . xx 



II. Text . 

III. Notes . 

IV. Glossary 

V. Bibliography 

VI. Index . 



• 135 
. 222 

. 229 

• 233 



INTRODUCTION 

I. Editions of the Text. 

The only edition of Bartholomew Fair of real importance 
is that of the second volume of the first folio of Jonson's 
Works, the title-pages in which are dated 1631, 1640, or 
1641. This volume has caused not a little confusion to 
scholars, because it is made up of several parts originally 
designed for separate sale, and variously arranged in dif- 
ferent copies. Thus Miss Bates in her English Drama^ 
gives the date of the second volume of the first folio as 1631, 
reprinted in 1640, and again in 1641 ; and Ward in his 
History of the English Drama^ gives the same. But 
Brinsley Nicholson,^ after a careful collation, comes to the 
conclusion that although title-pages in different copies vary, 
and certain minor dissimilarities occur, these three volumes 
belong to the same edition. Hazlitt* re-affirms this. 

As the copy of the Yale Library on which the present 
work is based differs in several particulars from the copies 
collated by Nicholson and Hazlitt, it has seemed worth 
while to give a somewhat detailed collation. 

There is no general title-page, although in some copies 
that of the first volume of the 1640 folio is inserted.^ 

Folio. Signatures in fours. 

I. Bartholomew Fair has a title-page as follows : 

BARTHOLMEW | FAYRE: | ACOMEDIE, | 
ACTED IN THE 1 YEARE, 1614. | By the Lady 
ELIZABETHS \ SERVANTS. | And then dedicated 

^p. 78. 

*2. 296. 

' Notes and Queries, 4th Series, 5. 573. 

* Bibliographical Collections and Notes (1882), 320. 

"Cf. Hazlitt. 



viii Introduction 

to King lAMES, of | most Blessed Memorie; \ By the 

Author, BENIAMIN lOHNSON. | 

St foret in terris, rideret Democritus : nam 
Spectaret populum ludis attentius ipsis, 
Vt sibi prcebentem, minio spectacula plura. 
Scriptores autem narrare putaret assello 
Fabellam surdo. Hor. lib. 2. Epist. I. 

LONDON, I Printed by /. B. for ROBERT ALLOT, and 
are | to be sold at the signe of the Beare, in Pauls \ Church- 
yard. 1 63 1. I 

Following the quotation from Horace there is a woodcut 
with device of a wolf's head, erased, etc. Verso of t. p. 
is blank. This is the first of five leaves preceding B, the 
second marked A3, the others without signature or pagina- 
tion. The Prologue to the Kings Majesty, A3 : verso. The 
Persons of the Play. The Induction occupies the next six 
pages. The play begins B, p. i, and ends M, p. 88. 

Following Bartholomew Fair are : 

2. The Staple of News, Aa, [p. i], changed after Cc2 
to a single letter, — I, [p. y6] ; I has six leaves. 

3. The Devil is an Ass, [N, p. 91] — Y, p. 170. The 
pagination and signatures indicate that this should have 
followed immediately after Bartholomew Fair. Pp. 89, 90, 
between the plays, are omitted. These three plays have 
separate t. pp., and were printed by I. B. for Robert Allot, 
1631. Hazlitt says they are usually found in a volume 
together, and that they were doubtless intended by Jonson 
to supplement the folio of 1616. 

4. Christmas, his Masque, etc., no t. p., Underzvoods, t. p. 
London, Printed MDCXL, and Mortimer, t. p. Printed 
MDCXL: B, p. i — Qq, p. 292. R, Y, and Pp have each 
but two leaves. There are also a few irregularities in the 
pagination of this and some of the following sections of 
the folio. 

5. Horace, the English Grammar, t. pp. Printed MDCXL, 
and Timber, t. p. London, Printed MDCXLI: [A], p. i— R, 
p. 132. L has but two leaves. 



Introduction ix 

6. The Magnetic Lady, A Tale of a Tub, t. pp. London, 
Printed MCDXL, and The Sad Shepherd, t. p. London, 
Printed MDCXLI : [A, p. i]— V, p. 155. Q has but two 
leaves. Pp. 70-79 are repeated, while pp. 123-132 are 
omitted in the pagination. 

Other editions of lesser importance are: the folio of 
1692;^ a booksellers' edition, 1716; Whalley's, 1756; Gif- 
ford's, 1816; Cunning-ham's Gifford's, 1875. Whalley's 
edition was reprinted together with Beaumont and Fletcher's 
plays in 181 1, and Gifford's text has appeared again in the 
Mermaid Series. The latter call for no consideration, and 
the others can be dismissed with a few words. The folio of 
1692 is a not over-careful reprint of the 1631 text, with 
changes in spelling, capitalization, etc. The 17 16 edition 
reproduces the 1692 folio with certain inaccuracies of its 
own. In Whalley's edition, 1756, we have the first pro- 
fessedly critical text. But the result is disappointing. As 
Gifford has noted,^ Whalley based his work on the book- 
sellers' edition of 1716, and thus several errors of the latter 
were again presented to the public. With much more 
vigor and independence Gifford approached the same task. 
But he takes some undue liberties, makes certain changes 
that can be ascribed only to carelessness, and at times is in 
error because of consulting Whalley instead of the early 
text. 

Much of this will be evident on reference to the variants 
of the text in this volume. It should be added, however, 
that the aim has been to include only the most important, 
and that although a few unmistakable errors, characteristic 
of the different editions, are given, those due to carelessness 
are commonly omitted. 

Bartholomeiv Fair was produced in 1614. That it should 
not have been included in the foHo of 1616, has caused 
occasional comment, yet is not strange, as popular plays 

^ For collation and detailed criticism of these editions, see Hatha- 
way, Alchemist, 4-12. 
2 Cun. G. ed. i. clxxxiii. 



X Introduction 

were often withheld many .years from the press. It was 
first pubHshed in the 1631-41 folio, and, like the other parts 
of that volume, does not exhibit the nice workmanship of 
the earlier folio. It is improbable that Jonson revised it ; 
but that it was brought out surreptitiously, as Gifford con- 
jectured, is proved untrue by Jonson's letter regarding the 
printing of the play.^ 

In the text which I submit as the basis of my study, I 
have painstakingly followed in spelling, capitalization, and 
punctuation, the folio of 1631-41. This was suggested by 
the example of Dr. Horace H. Furness in the Variorum 
Shakespeare, who, after carefully constructing a text for 
each of his earlier volumes, at length decided to reproduce 
the text of the first Shakespeare folio. The reasons which 
he adduced in support of his later method^ apply with equal 
force to Bartholomew Fair. And it is hoped that by repro- 
ducing the original text of this play, even with all the 
'barbarities', as Gififord termed them, the student may be 
aided in forming a more independent judgment, as well as 
in coming nearer to Jonson. 



2. The Annual Bartholomew Fair. 

Jonson's play is a realistic portrayal of the Fair held at 
Smithfield, London ; and one of the greatest helps to a 
knowledge of either the Fair or the play, is an acquaintance 
with the other. For completeness, then, the present work 
should include a history of the Fair from its founding in the 
twelfth century to its decay and final dissolution, seven 
hundred and thirty years later. But such a history has 
been written by Henry Morley, who had the great advantage 
of immediate access to manuscripts, tracts, bills, etc., some 
of which were published expressly for the Fair, and of 
course are invaluable for their record of its varied and 

' See Note on /. B. of the Title-page. 

'See Preface to Othello (Var. Ed.), pp. V, VI. 



Introduction xi 

eventful life. So that, alluring though the Fair is, with its 
traditions of northern clothiers, horse-traders, roast pig, and 
rough and hearty amusements (many of which are com- 
mented on in the Notes), it seems sufficient at this point 
merely to name the work which will be found a rich store- 
house of information, Morley's Memoirs of Bartholomew 
Fair. 

Another useful book, though confessedly based on the 
Memoirs in the chapters relating to the London Fair, is 
Walford's Fairs, Past and Present. Magazine articles have 
also appeared from time to time, but they are of no value. 

As a suggestion of the long and varied history of Bar- 
tholomew Fair, I append the following dates : 

1 102 Founding of the Priory of Bartholomew. 
1 120 Bartholomew Fair established by Rayer. 
1 133 First Charter, granted by Henry I. 

[ Many miracles. 
1143) 

^ I Charter granted by Henry H. 

1305 William Wallace executed in the Fair. 
1334 A new Charter, by Edward HI. 
14004- Men and women sold at the Fair. 
Growing importance as a cloth fair. 

f Miracle plays. 
1500 J 

1539 Severed from the Church. 

1546 Priory rights secured by Lord Rich. 

1593 Suspended because of the plague. 

1596 Composition of tolls, betwen Lord Rich and the City of 

London. 
1598 Described by a German tutor, Paul Hentzner. 
1603 Suspended because of the plague. 
1614 Smithfield paved. 

The third Lord Rich, Lord of the Fair. 

Depicted by Ben Jonson at the Hope Theatre. 
1625 Suspended because of the plague. 
1630 Suspended because of the plague. 
1647+ Many political tracts issued at it. 
1661 Becomes a fourteen-day fair. 



xii Introduction 

^„ f Visited by Samuel Pepys. 

1664 Visited by John Locke. 

,,^ [ Suspended because of the plague. 

1678 First question of suppression raised by civic authorities. 

1685 The tolls leased by the City to a sword-bearer for £100 a year. 

Its decay as a place of trade. 
1694 Reduced to a three-day fair as formerly. 
1697 Vicious plays suppressed by the Lord Mayor. 

Puppet-shows still flourish. 

f-\ Henry Fielding has a theatrical booth at which he acts. 

1750+ Roast pig loses its popularity; beef sausage comes into vogue. 

1762 More restrictions upon its liberties. 

1769 Plays, puppet-shows, and gambling suppressed. 

1792 Performances by political puppets. 

1798 Its abolition again discussed by the Corporation of London. 

1827 The Lord of the Fair's rights bought by the Corporation of 

London. 
1839 Measures for suppression. 
1855 Its last year. 



3. Jonson's Bartholomew Fair: its General 

Features. 

While all of Jonson's early comedies had been at least 
moderately successful, and several much more than that, 
his later and more ambitious effort, Catiline, embodying long 
cherished and carefully elaborated theories, was an unmis- 
takable failure. Jonson was keenly disappointed at its 
reception. Being much too positive and self-confident to 
distrust his art, he quickly changed his estimate of the public. 
With a feeling not untouched with cynicism, he suddenly 
becomes aware of the 'jig-given times' in which he is living, 
where is 'so thick and dark an ignorance, as now almost 
covers the age.' 

In Catiline he had worked on the assumption that like 
himself the public was deeply interested in classical archse- 



Introduction xiii 

ology; he had conceived the masses to be hearers and 
readers 'extraordinary', whereas they proved themselves, 
beyond a question, very 'ordinary'. It is thus not strange 
that, oppressed with a sense of the futihty of his labor, he 
produced nothing for the next two years. Then followed 
Bartholomezv Fair, 'made to delight all and offend none,' 
It was thus a compromise, in which, recognizing that the 
Elizabethans were not scholars but fun-loving boys, he laid 
aside, as it were, the schoolman's gown, and presented 'a 
new sufficient play, . . . merry, and as full of noise as 
sport.' That he might not again write above the heads of 
his audience, he constructed this drama, he tells them with 
playful sarcasm in the Induction, according to 'the scale 
of the grounded judgments', just to their 'meridian' in wit. 
Bartholomew Fair was as popular as Catiline had been 
unpopular. And though we should undoubtedly incur the 
scorn of the author were he to hear three centuries later this 
admission of human weakness, our judgment agrees with 
that of the people. For lightly as Jonson regarded his task, 
Bartholomew Fair is a play of surpassing power. Ward is 
not blinded by enthusiasm when he characterizes it as 'of its 
kind . . . without a rival in our dramatic literature.'^ 
On the other hand, it does not aid in a true appreciation of 
this play to disregard its structural defects or to palliate its 
frequent coarseness. Leigh Hunt condemned it as 'full 
of the absolutest, and loathsomest, trash',^ a criticism which 
shows how strongly he was offended rather than how pene- 
trating was his insight. Much more discerning is Swin- 
burne's judgment: 'It must be confessed that some of the 
meat is too high and some of the sauces are too rank for any 
but a very strong digestion. But those who turn away from 
the table in sheer disgust at the coarseness of the fare will 
lose the enjoyment of some of the richest and strongest 
humor, some of the most brilliant and varied realism, that 
ever clairned the attention or excited the admiration of the 
study or the stage.'^ 

^ Eng. Dram. Lit. 2. 371. 

* Hunt, Men, Women, and Books, 2. 13. 

* Swinburne, Study of Ben Jonson, 60. 



xiv Introduction 

Bartholomew Fair is the most farcical of Jonson's plays. 
There is, to be sure, an element of seriousness in the keen 
satire of the Puritan, which prevents it from being entirely 
a farce, but for the most part the play is given over to 
natural, rollicking fun. This varies all the way from the 
rough horse-play of Waspe's beating the Justice and the 
tragical destruction of Mrs. Overdo's French hood, to the 
highly respectable wooing of Grace Wellborn. The scenes 
are typical of London life, compressed and heightened as 
it naturally would be in the annual merry-making of Bar- 
tholomew Fair. The satire is less delicate, and the 
humorous situations less elaborate, than in Epicoene; but 
the fun is even more spontaneous and varied. 

The plot is noticeably slight. The interest is chiefly 
concerned with the picture of the old Fair, into which 
all the curious incidents that might happen among the 
hearty, pleasure-loving Londoners on Bartholomew Day are 
crowded. There is great diversity in the picture ; yet since 
each scene is so closely connected with the Fair, the latter 
gives it a certain unity. 

Notwithstanding the looseness of structure, which may 
be somewhat easily pardoned in S3 light a piece, there are 
to be noted evidences of careful workmanship. The unities 
of time and place are strictly observed. The action is 
included in one short day, beginning with the middle of the 
morning and ending in time for an invitation to supper. 
Aside from Act i, which is introductory, the scene is laid 
entirely in the outer portion of the Fair, where were the 
eating-booths, the puppet-shows, and the 'monsters' ; Act 
I is placed at Littlewit's home, within a few minutes' walk 
of the Fair. 

There are, further, certain threads of interest to be fol- 
lowed throughout the play. At the very beginning the 
attention is directed to the project devised by Winwife and 
Quarlous of making a wealthy match, in pursuit of which 
they are friendly rivals for the hand of Dame Purecraft as 
well as that of Grace Wellborn. A second interest is in the 



Introduction xv 

visit to the Fair of Cokes and his party (who might be desig- 
nated as the party of fools), and of Busy and his party (the 
party of hypocritical Puritans). A third interest centers in 
the disguised Justice Overdo seeking to discover the 'enor- 
mities' of the Fair ; he is comic because so serious, and thus 
rightly belongs to both parties. 

The action is largely episodic, and the conclusion is not 
inevitable. Yet there is a distinct climax at the end of 
Act 5, where, besides the successful tricks employed by 
Ouarlous and Winwife for making wealthy matches. Busy 
undertakes an argument with the puppets only to be miser- 
ably defeated, and Overdo, after a magnificent exordium, in 
which he calls upon all London to witness the discoveries 
about to be made in his zealous reforms, comes to a sudden 
and very embarrassing conclusion on finding his own wife 
among the chief offenders. 

The puppet-play of Act 5 is a seeming digression, and 
delays the action. But the idea of its introduction and the 
use finally made of it in the denouement, if we can overlook 
its extreme vulgarity, are undeniably clever ; no scene could 
be more characteristic of the Fair. 

Notwithstanduig the great and long continued popularity 
of the puppet-drama^ in England, extremely little of it has 
been preserved in literature. So far as I know, not one 
entire play given during Jonson's time is extant. The 
reason is evident.. As it was adapted especially for the 
amusement of the lower classes, the attention was given, not 
to the literary form, but to the common tricks calculated to 
catch the popular ear. Though the outline of the plot and 

* In England the puppet-plays, or 'motions,' as they were often 
called, had their origin in the service of religion, and are as old as 
the drama. They were early used to illustrate stories from the Bible 
and from the lives of the saints; later many of the morality-plays 
were thus produced. At the time of Jonson and for a century 
later, they had not lost entirely the influence of this religious asso- 
ciation. In the repertoire of Lanthorne Leatherhead (cf. Text, 106. 
7 flf.), together with the secular City of Norwich and Gunpowder 
Plot, are mentioned Jerusalem, Sodom and Gomorrah, and Niniveh 



xvi Introduction 

somewhat more at times may have been written, the 'inter- 
preter' suited his words to the action, and freely followed 
the promptings of his wit. 

In the Modern History of Hero and Leander, the play 
which our friends in Bartholomew Fair attended, the plot 
first of all deserves attention. It begins with the amours of 
Hero and Leander, with whom is introduced a representa- 
tive of the rough and scurrilous Thames watermen. Damon 
and Pythias are next presented, but alas for the ancient tra- 
dition of their noble friendship! They chance both to be 
smitten with the fair Hero, and in most ignoble and 
unfriendly language blackguard each other ; but as the 
puppet-master in his own person addresses them in an 
uncomplimentary manner, they at once forget their dif- 
ferences, and turning upon the intruder, beat him 
violently according to the puppet-fashion. Hero, in the 
meantime, proves that she is indeed but a creature of earth, 
and, overcome by wine, is as amorous as Leander. Damon 
and Pythias come upon them kissing ; there ensues a general 
bandying of coarse and abusive epithets, and shortly a brawl 
in which Hero is shamefully kicked. The violence of the 
melee raises the ghost of Dionysius, who comes sadly to 
reprove Damon and Pythias. At his words the fight stops. 
What would have happened next, or how the play would 
have ended is beyond all telling — Busy rushes in at this 
moment and demands attention. 

As may be seen from this outline, the action of the puppet- 
play is almost sufficiently bizarre and disjointed to meet the 

with Jonas and the Whale. The last seems to have been the most 
popular puppet-play of its time, for it is also referred to twice by 
Jonson in Every Man out of his Humor (it is from this that I quote 
the full title) and, according to Collier {Punch and Judy, 23), by 
twenty other authors. Among other plays mentioned in contempo- 
rary literature, whose names at least convey a suggestion of their 
character, are the Prodigal Son {Winter's Tale, 4. 3. 103) ; London, 
and Rome {Ev. Man Out, 'Stage,' preceding A. i) ; Patient Gricill, 
and Whittington (Pepys' Diary, Aug. 30, 1667; Sept. 21, 1668). For 
the history of puppet-plays in England, cf. Encyc. Britan.; Punch 
and Judy; Magnin, Histoire des Marionnettes. 



Introduction xvii 

requirements of a modern comic opera. Though the bur- 
lesque use made of it renders absurd an analysis that is 
entirely serious, yet we may distinguish .certain features of 
the typical puppet-play. The lack of coherence in the 
action, intentionally exaggerated in the present example, is 
characteristic. And should we expect anything else in a 
work so largely extempore? The various parts of Hero 
and Leander are not more strangely wrought together than 
is the curious medley of scenes suggested in the bill of 
a puppet-show produced a century later by a motion-master 
of celebrity : 'At Crawley's Booth, over against the Crown 
Tavern in Smithfield, during the time of Bartholomew Fair, 
will be presented a little opera, called the Old Creation of 
the World, yet newly revived ; with the addition of Noah's 
Flood ; also several fountains playing water during the time 
of the play. — The last scene does present Noah and his 
family coming out of the Ark, with all the beasts two and 
two, and all the fowls of the air seen in a prospect sitting 
upon trees ; likewise over the ark is seen the Sun rising 
in a most glorious manner : moreover, a multitude of Angels 
will be seen in a double rank, which presents a double pros- 
pect, one for the sun, the other for a palace, where will be 
seen six Angels ringing of bells. — Likewise Machines 
descend from above, double and treble, with Dives rising out 
of Hell, and Lazarus seen in Abraham's bosom, besides 
several figures dancing jiggs, sarabands, and country 
dances, to the admiration of the spectators ; with the merry 
conceits of squire Punch and sir John Spendall.'^ 

Another very instructive parallel is furnished by a com- 
parison of the Punch and Judy show, which later was to 
have such vogue in England.- The plot has more unity, 

' Cited by Strutt, Sports and Pastimes, i66. 

' Cf. Punch and Judy, London, 1873 ; the dialogue by Collier, and 
the illustrations by Cruikshank, were based chiefly on the production 
of an Italian puppet-master, Piccini, in his old age settled near Drury 
Lane, London, who in the pursuit of his profession for forty or fifty 
years had travelled over England. Also cf. Don Quixote, part 2, 
chap. 26; here is described most vividly the redoubtable knight's 
seeing the puppet-play of Gayferos and Melissandro; this is almost 
exactly contemporary with our play. 



xviii Introduction 

but also is episodic. There is a like amorous feeling which 
underlies much of the action. There is a similar tendency 
towards coarseness in speech and action. There is even 
more rough horse-play and beating.^ 

Hero and Leander, besides pleasing an audience which 
had such a fondness for puppet-plays, portrays a most char- 
acteristic feature of the Fair. It presents significant experi- 
ences of the party of fools and the party of hypocrites; it 
is especially serviceable for the confutation and humiliation 
of Busy, who represents the Puritan prejudice against the 
stage. In the end it thus proves to be closely connected 
with the main interests of the action, and, with the qualifi- 
cation of coarseness already suggested, is very effective. 

The unusually large number of characters in Bartholomew 
Fair has been often commented on. The popular London 
Fair could hardly be presented with less. While many are 
no more than the supernumeraries of the modern stage, 
several are well deserving of study, especially the 'Bar- 
tholomew birds,' the habitual frequenters of the Fair. It 
is doubtful whether Jonson ever drew a more lifelike woman 
than Ursula. She is not at all a heroine ; her language 
savors most disagreeably of the low company she keeps ; 
but this huge, waddling pig-woman is hardly less a living 
creation than Falstaff, and, though she lacks his geniality 
she is not without some of his humor. 

Almost as well drawn is Ursula's companion, Knockem, 
the horse-courser. That Jonson, .the man of books and the 
indefatigable student of the classics, could enter so heartily 
into this character and talk his very language, is indeed sur- 
prising. It shows his many-sided nature. Mention also 
should be made of Whit, Edgworth, Nightingale, Haggise, 
and Bristle, who are other excellent representatives of the 
familiar characters to be met at the Fair. 

^ Beating has in all times been good material for low comedy, and 
never fails to catch the public attention, whether it be in the time 
of Aristophanes, Plautus, the English moralities, or Shakespeare. 



Introduction xix 

Littlewit, Purecraft, Busy, Overdo, Cokes, and Grace 
Wellborn suggest something of the dramatist's humor- 
studies, though there is very little of the tedious analysis 
that not infrequently characterized the earlier work. Overdo 
is artificial, and his pompous overdoing is overdone. Grace 
Wellborn, eminently proper and respectable, has not the 
least girlishness in her composition, and is disappointing. 
In no other character is the sympathetic, life-infusing art 
of Shakespeare so completely lacking. Busy and the other 
characters prominent in the dramatist's ridicule of the Puri- 
tans, afford an interest of another kind ; together with the 
consideration of Jonson's satire I reserve them for the fol- 
lowing section. 

Most interesting and important in connection with Jon- 
son's treatment of character, is his realism. He exhibits a 
wonderful grasp of characteristic detail, and yet is not 
unmindful of the larger effects. Reference already has been 
made to his exact knowledge of the horse-courser's lingo, 
and almost as much might be said for the speech of the 
civil cutpurse and his assistant, the disreputable Irishman, 
the ginger-bread woman, the watchmen, and others. How 
this acquaintance was gained we do not know, but there 
can be no question of an intimate knowledge of these char- 
acters and of their manner of life as well as of their speech. 

Jonson's art of realism is certainly remarkable in its 
power to bring before us these characters almost in flesh and 
blood. Yet that which is merely physical, though it may 
arouse an interest in science, certainly does not in literature, 
and we should scarcely care to dwell so long on the ignoble 
phases of Jonson's characters were they much more truly 
alive. The ribald speech of Ursula, as well as of the pup- 
pets, assuredly has no place in the province of art. The 
play is great in spite of, not because of, its vulgarity. Yet 
in justice to Jonson it should be added that in general the 
atmosphere of the play is wholesome. There is certainly 
nothing insidious or vicious in its tendency. Evil is made 
repulsive, folly and hypocrisy are revealed and punished. 



XX Introduction 

Our playwright's realism is further open to criticism, in 
the little sympathy awakened by the individual character. 
How can we sympathize with the foolish Cokes, or the 
overdoing Justice, or the doting Littlewit? Now while no 
group of people such as are to be found at a popular fair, 
fail to show very freely their weakness, they occasionally 
exhibit their excellences as well. However much we may 
laugh at Falstaff or Malvolio, we still feel a kinship and 
sympathy with them such as none of Jonson's characters 
calls forth. There is a spiritual element in Shakespeare's 
art that deals with things other than the merely external. 
It is largely for this reason that, in comparing the low 
comedy scenes of King Henry IV with Bartholomew Fair, 
we must acknowledge the quality of Shakespeare's realism 
to be superior, though in the energy and completeness of the 
picture, Jonson's comedy is not surpassed. 

Jonson more than any other Elizabethan dramatist iden- 
tified himself with London, and by nature was peculiarly 
fitted to enter into the life of the great Smithfield Fair. 
Few others could have been so keen and accurate in their 
observations, and none could more heartily enjoy its rough, 
spontaneous humor. Bartholomew Fair .excels in the 
varied and abounding life of its scenes, and offers an 
extremely rich field for the study of English social history. 



4, Jonson's Satire of the Puritans. 

Jonson's life is the story of many a conflict. Questions 
involving moral issues strongly attracted him, perhaps not 
a little because of the difference of opinion and the opposi- 
tion that they were sure to arouse. In treating them he 
did not evince the finest subtlety, but he never showed lack 
of strength and courage. Although little used to exalted 
emotion, he was philosophical, and his keen and active 
mind delighted to penetrate the disguises of evil and expose 
the insidious foe. His hostile attitude and mode of attack, 
he himself best describes : 



Introduction xxi 

But, with an armed and resolved hand, 
I'll strip the ragged follies of the time 
Naked as at their birth . . . 

. . . and with a whip of steel, 
Print wounding lashes in their iron ribs. 

Well, I will scourge those apes, 
And to these courteous eyes oppose a mirror, 
As large as is the stage whereon we act; 
Where they shall see the time's deformity 
Anatomized in every nerve and sinew.^ 

This is the very essence of satire, such as had its origin 
among the Romans and such as Juvenal wielded. It char- 
acterizes practically all of Jonson's work, being found in the 
epigrams, odes, masques, and in all the comedies. Though 
lacking the imperturbable good nature and 'silvery laughter' 
of Moliere, it is free from the acerbity and hatred of 
Swift. Its leading feature is grim seriousness and uncom- 
promising determination, very much resembling the stern 
and aggressive spirit of the reformer. 

Incidental allusions to the Puritans abound in Jonson's 
writings, but for our study The Alchemist, Bartholomew 
Fair, and The Sad Shepherd will be found of especial 
importance, particularly the first two, in which the treatment 
of Puritanism constitutes one of the chief interests of the 
plays, representatives of this class being included in the 
dramatis personae and given a leading part in the action. 

The satire here is not that found in Jonson's earlier work. 
There he lapsed not infrequently into long descriptions and 
minute character-analyses, as he defined with a scholar's 
exactness the follies he sought to expose. The defects of 
this kind of dramatic satire are obvious. A play requiring 
a long 'Character of the Persons' by way of preface and 
explanation, cannot be well adapted to the stage. Such 
satire might perhaps be effective in the essay, but certainly 
is not suited to the drama. 

^ Ev. Man Out, Works, 2. 12, 17. 



xxii * Introduction 

But in The Alchemist and Bartholomeiv Fair the satire is 
embodied in the characters themselves. Those who bring 
ridicule upon the 'brethren' in the former, are none other 
than the deacon, Ananias, and the pastor, Tribulation 
Wholesome. Both are easy victims of an alchemical fraud ; 
in their desire for wealth, conscience and principle are most 
elastic, and it is this which involves them in ridicule and dis- 
grace. In Bartholomezv Fair Zeal-of-the-land Busy and 
Dame Purecraft are similarly the chief maligners of the 
Puritans. The former, a Banbury baker, has given up his 
trade because his 'spiced conscience' would not allow him 
to furnish cakes for May-poles, wakes, and other 'profane' 
feasts. He now prophesies, and for his gluttonous sub- 
sistence leans on the brethren and sisters of the holy cause. 
The idolatrous Bartholomew Fair fills his soul with horror, 
but when a small company of his flock are determined to 
visit the Fair and eat pig, he is easily persuaded to justify 
their action and to go with them. At the Fair his arrogant 
and troublesome zeal urges him on to violence : but his 
ignorant and indiscriminate attacks come absolutely to 
naught, occasioning in the end only great laughter. Dame 
Purecraft is 'a wilful holy widow' who delights in the 
many suitors that her property, dishonestly acquired, keeps 
about her. Being given to superstition, she becomes the 
victim of a trick resorted to by a gallant who marries her 
solely for her wealth. 

The Sad Shepherd, being a pastoral comedy, scarcely 
would permit the presence of a Puritan, and consequently 
the satire is not as dramatic. In their speeches. Clarion, 
Tuck, Lionel, and Robin Hood severely characterize the 
'surly shepherds' who frown upon their sports ; who is 
meant is of course very evident. 

As Jonson's attack is considered more in detail, it will 
be noted from how many different points he assails the 
Puritans, showing the thoroughness and vigor so genuinely 
characteristic of him. There were, however, some foibles, 
commonly ridiculed, which he passed over lightly, and others 



Introduction xxiii 

which he did not touch on at all. This has an important 
significance, as I hope to show later. 

The Puritans' dress readily distinguished them. There 
was 'Religion in their garments, and their hair cut shorter 
than their eyebrows.'^ But the external peculiarities could 
well be left to the actors together with the designers of cos- 
tume ; such allusions Jonson makes but rarely. As he 
approached, however, what has more intimately to do 
with character — manners, language, hypocritical subtleties 
— he was on ground that as a writer of humor-studies he 
especially delighted in. Here ridicule attends the Puritans 
at every step. 

It begins with their names. Tribulation Wholesome, 
Ananias, Win-the-fight, Zeal-of-the-land Busy, which Subtle 
contemptuously says are affected 'Only for glory, and to 
catch the ear of the disciple'.^ 

Jonson's Puritans are great talkers, and love language 
that is large and solemn. Their graces are so protracted 
that the meat on the table forgets that it was this day in the 
kitchen. They call themselves the 'Saints' ; they are of 
the 'separation', devoted to the 'holy' or 'sanctified cause'. 
The hobby-horses for sale at Bartholomew Fair, in their 
language, are 'apocryphal wares', the seller none other than 
the 'Nebuchadnezzar of the Fair', and Busy, in his icono- 
clastic zeal, remorselessly destroys Joan's gingerbread 
figures, 'her basket of popery', her 'nest of images'. 

Jonson's Puritans are addicted to sophistry. Ananias 
declares that Subtle is a 'heathen and speaks the language 
of Canaan', and he scruples against dealing with him 
because 'The sanctified cause should have a sanctified 
course'. But Tribulation smooths over the difficulty by 
observing that 'The children of perdition are ofttimes 
made instruments even of the greatest works'. Again, Mrs. 
Littlewit is taken with a desire to eat pig in the Fair. Her 
mother, Dame Purecraft, wishes to gratify her even though 

^ Ev. Man Out, Induct. 

" Alchem. Cun. G. ed. 4. 93. 



xxiv Introduction 

the Puritan teaching was decidedly averse to such pleasures ; 
so Rabbi Busy is sent for to 'raise them up in a scruple'. 
He begins with several cant expressions, such as Bar- 
tholomew pig 'is a spice of idolatry', but, upon being urged, 
quickly finds that the matter 'is subject to construction', and 
that 'in midst of the profane', pig may 'be eaten with a 
reformed mouth, with sobriety and humbleness'. And thus 
it is easily brought about that within less than an hour John 
and Mrs. Littlewit are enjoying the traditional delicacy of 
Bartholomew Fair, accompanied by Dame Purecraft and 
also Rabbi Busy. 

Closely associated with the language of the Puritans, and 
equally vulnerable, was their scrupulosity, which all of Jon- 
son's Puritans affect. Ananias, offended by the heathen 
doctor's 'Christmas', which at once suggests popery to him, 
interrupts with, 'Christ-tide, I pray you'. Similarly, Busy 
will not allow himself to be called a 'godfather', but a 
'witness'. 

Still less does their narrowness and intolerance escape 
without many a sharp attack. Busy in the stocks threatens 
the philosophical Overdo, repeating bits of Latin authors for 
his own consolation, that he will 'leave to communicate' his 
spirit if he hears 'any more of those superstitious relics, 
those lists of Latin, the very rags of Rome, and patches of 
popery'.^ For the Catholic faith to Busy was synonymous 
with idolatry, and things as far removed from priestcraft as 
Joan's artistic gingerbread-creations made him burn with 
indignation. No one would ever charge Busy with too 
much learning ; as Quarlous wittily remarks : 'He will ever 
be in the state of innocence though and childhood ; derides 
all antiquity, defies any other learning than inspiration ; and 
what discretion soever, years should afford him, it is all 
prevented in his original ignorance. '- 

Busy, like Ananias, is carried along by his zeal, and the 
promptings of the spirit lead him into gross absurdities. Of 

' 103. 22. ^ 19. 12. 



Introduction xxv 

these, none is more thoroughly in the spirit of comic satire 
than his attack on the stage and his controversy with the 
puppets. In this Jonson ridiculed most eflfectively the 
unreasonable attitude which the Puritans took towards the 
stage, and the general ignorance of their attacks, which 
already were common. 

The Puritans' intolerance extended farther than to plays 
and fairs ; Busy puts with them in a general condemnation, 
May-games, morris-dances, wakes, and wedding- feasts ; the 
prophesying Elder to whom a hobby-horse was an idol, and 
a drum the broken belly of the beast, could have no sym- 
pathy with mirth. This spirit of severity and intolerance 
Jonson satirized again in The Sad Shepherd, when Robin 
Hood suggests a song and dance in the wood, affirming : 
Such are the rites the youthful June allow. 

To which Clarion replies : 

They zvere, gay Robin ; but the sourer sort 
Of shepherds now disclaim in all such sport. 

And Lionel adds : 

They call ours Pagan pastimes that infect 

Our blood with ease, our youth with all neglect ; 

Our tongues with wantonness, our thoughts with lust; 

And what they censure ill, all others must.^ 

In their conduct of life, Jonson's Puritans are anything 
but spiritually minded. Ananias and Tribulation Whole- 
some seek after the riches that perish, and by the most 
foolish of means. Busy and Dame Purecraft, according to 
the latter's confession, have like worldly tendencies. Busy, 
further, is a glutton ; he eats pig and drinks ale at the Fair 
in a way that shows his gastronomic powers are no whit 
inferior to those of Moliere's Tartuffe. 

As the application of principles to life is further consid- 
ered, the Puritans are found engaged in certain rather sur- 
prising vocations. While Stubbes and others, like Busy, 
denounced the wearers of feathers and similar vanities, not 

' Cun. G. ed. 6. 245. 



xxvi Introduction 

a few of their number had a good Hving from the making 
and selling of them. This was a well known fact in the 
London of Jonson's time, and was so thoroughly inconsistent 
that he found pleasure in returning to it several times. 

As the Puritans did not hesitate to adopt the singularities 
of dress, so in their profession and living they seemed to 
experience a joy in being of the Separation, a joy that was 
decidedly self-centered. Busy, when thrust into the stocks, 
was 'glad to be thus separated from the heathen of the land'. 
Ananias was so imbued with the same spirit that he failed 
to recognize that the magistrate possessed any jurisdiction 
over him, and so had no scruple in pursuing the project, for- 
bidden by law, of the private coinage of gold. 

Finally, with all their scrupulosity, the Puritans are not 
to be credited with common honesty. Subtle boldly charges 
this and Tribulation does not deny it, though in his sophistry 
he glosses it over. It is Dame Purecraft herself who tells 
Quarlous of Busy's practice of robbing heirs of property 
left in his trust, and of her own still more effective device 
of extorting alms for various specious charities which really 
ended in herself. Similarly, but more sternly, some years 
later in The Sad Shepherd were the Puritans charged 

With covetise and rage, when to their store 
They add the poor man's yeanling, and dare' sell 
Both fleece and carcass, not gi'ing him the fell.^ 

As we have thus enumerated the charges made by Jonson, 
the question naturally suggested is. How far were they just? 
There are some that can be dismissed almost at a glance, 
for The Alchemist and Bartholomezv Fair are comedy as 
well as satire, and other characters, as well as the Puritans, 
are often distorted and made ridiculous in order to amuse. 
Yet in general Jonson was serious even in his jesting. 

In seeking rightly to estimate the Puritans, we have the 
perspective of three hundred years to aid us, and it is easy 
to judge to-day with a degree of fairness such as was almost 
impossible for a contemporary dramatist. 

^ Cun. G. ed. 6. 245. 



Introduction xxvii 

Jonson's Puritans are hypocrites. But history tells us of 
men who, to worship God according to their ideas of right, 
left home, endured years of exile, and finally braved the 
perils and hardships attendant upon a settlement in a wild 
and unknown land. It tells us also of their kinsmen who, 
remaining in England, for the sake of political and religious 
liberty resisted royal despotism and underwent the horrors 
of civil war. The belief that produced such men could not 
be essentially hypocritical. 

But the mass of Puritans was by no means on the same 
level as the ardent leaders. Cromwell's and Milton's 
frequent remonstrances are evidence to the contrary. And, 
further, not infrequently it is true that men who have the 
quality for making gallant soldiers or explorers, are not the 
most desirable neighbors. The very intensity with which 
the Puritans sought what they considered the essentials of 
character, made them likely to neglect the cultivation of the 
more easily acquired, and perhaps more natural, virtues. 
Their lives commonly lacked a beautiful symmetry, and 
among the ignorant abounded in inconsistencies. 

Thus while Jonson's satire as a whole was unfair to the 
Puritans, each individual point was not without much justi- 
fication. These people certainly were odd in their dress ; 
with some this was but a natural result of their strong 
aversion to the extravagance of a city and land which went 
wild over new and absurd styles ; with others it was an 
affectation. Even the former must have found it difficult 
not to become self-conscious — perhaps vain of their freedom 
from vanity. 

That their language was stilted and bombastic, contempo- 
rary literature gives abundant proof. Especially writings 
intended to correct the follies of the time, such as Philip 
Stubbes' Anatomy of Abuses, show how ridiculous were the 
titanic denunciations brought to bear on peccadillos too 
insignificant for notice. The language of the Puritans was 
loaded with Biblical illustrations and phrases, sometimes to 
a degree that now would seem almost profane. But the 



xxviii Introduction 

Bible to many was their only book, and in it they found a 
guide for even the trivial incidents of every day. And what 
wonder that they fell into occasional errors by interpreting 
it too narrowly ! Of its pervading influence Green gives an 
admirable statement in his History of the English People:^ 

The power of the Book [the Bible] over the mass of Englishmen 
showed itself in a thousand superficial ways, and in none more con- 
spicuously than in the influence on ordinary speech. It formed, we 
must repeat, the whole literature which was practically accessible to 
ordinary Englishmen; and when we recall the number of common 
phrases which we owe to great authors, the bits of Shakespeare, or 
Milton, or Dickens, or Thackeray, which unconsciously interweave 
themselves in our ordinary talk, we shall better understand the 
strange mosaic of Biblical words and phrases which colored English 
talk two hundred years ago. 

By far the most serious of the minor charges in our 
author's satire was that of narrowness and intolerance. 
Before 1595 the main causes of difference between Puritan 
and churchman had been questions of ceremony — as the 
wearing of the surplice, the reading of the service, the rite 
of baptism, the location of the communion table, etc. Had 
either party shown breadth in their views and a little toler- 
ance, the separation might never have occurred. This 
unyielding spirit on the part of the Puritans in no small 
degree was due to their dread of the Catholics, whom they 
treated with bitter hostility. Anything that contained the 
least suggestion of papacy was to be fought to the death; 
their imaginations were not less active than Busy's in con- 
juring up these delusive foes ; and they fell into what Bacon 
calls 'a superstition in avoiding a superstition.' 

Nor were they much kinder to others outside of the 
English Church who differed from themselves. This was 
shown in the New World by their treatment of the Quakers, 
and the cruel retaliations which they practised upon the 
Indians. In the home-land they could not exercise the same 
independence, yet many believed quite as strongly that they 

^3. II. 



Introduction xxix 

were God's chosen people, surrounded by the heathen 
Canaanites ; and so intent were they in heeding the Old 
Testament warning against contamination that they quite 
overlooked the New Testament exhortation to love and ser- 
vice. This extreme form of the Puritans' spirit of separa- 
tion, supported by conceit, perverseness, intolerance, and 
cruelty, is what Bishop Hall especially stigmatized in his 
Apology against the Brownists. Bacon severely character- 
ized the same, also, in his essay, Unity in Religion : Tt is 
certain, that heresies and schisms are of all others the 
greatest scandals, yea, more than corruption of manners.' 

Busy is a glutton ; but with the austere simplicity of the 
Puritans, frugality and abstemiousness much more com- 
monly prevailed. Busy is characterized by his inspired 
ignorance, but the Puritans of history founded schools and 
colleges ; though not always broad and liberal in their cul- 
ture, they fostered learning as no other people of their time. 
Busy, Purecraft, Ananias, and Wholesome were dishonest, 
and the same charge, with stern plainness, is repeated in The 
Sad Shepherd. But dishonesty is so far removed from 
what history tells us of the rigid moral integrity of the 
Puritans, that although no doubt there was ground for Jon- 
son's accusation in individual cases — and they may have 
been intensified to his mind by personal observation — this 
charge is not worth our attention. The Puritans formed 
much too large a class not to have some rogues hiding 
among them. And, as is always the way in times of 
religious prejudice and persecution, all kinds of fanatics and 
enthusiasts were loosely classed with them ; and further, 
without the least ground for suspicion, crimes and absurd 
false plots were fathered upon them.^ 

Jonson was in the front rank, but by no means alone, in his 
attack on the Puritans.-^ The Jacobean dramatists who made 

' Cf. Neal, I. 219, 343. 

' For a much more extended view of this conflict, see Thompson's 
Controversy betiveen the Puritans and the Stage ; part 2, in which 
the author considers 'The Dramatists' Reply to the Puritans,' is 
particularly related to our subject. 



XXX Introduction 

no allusion to the class that so vigorously assailed them are 
indeed few. These allusions, sometimes in the form of 
harmless jokes, again of downright scurrility, for the most 
part are too insignificant to warrant our attention. But 
there are certain plays more ambitious in their satire. The 
Puritan, 1607, whose authorship, variously attributed to 
Shakespeare, Middleton and others, is unknown, makes sev- 
eral of the holy society ridiculous through their hypocrisy 
and stupidity. This play is a very poor farce, and the 
imbecility, the puerile dishonesty represented as character- 
izing the Puritans, is so overdrawn that it is ineffective as 
satire. 

In The Family of Love, 1608, Middleton devoted an entire 
comedy to equal nonsense. A band of religious enthusiasts, 
known by this name, seems to have been organized by 
Heinrich Niclaes about 1555. They were guided, they pro- 
fessed, by Divine Love, but their enemies said, by carnal 
affection. So that classifying them under the general 
name of Puritans, as often was done, cast a slur upon the 
latter. Middleton, in his satire, depicts wanton sensuality 
masquerading in the guise of religious enthusiasm, together 
with some of the common foibles of the city Puritan. The 
whole is done in such a way. Ward observes, 'as to lead to 
the conclusion that the dramatist knew little or nothing of 
the principles or practices which he was attempting to 
satirize.'^ In A Chaste Maid in Cheapside, 1630, by the 
same author, some Puritan women appear at a congratu- 
latory party ; they converse most inanely, and are so unim- 
portant as not even to be distinguished by names. 

In The Muse's Looking Glass, 1634, Randolph makes 
Bird, a feather-maker, and Mrs. Flowerdew, a seller of 
pins and looking-glasses, both Puritans of Blackfriars, the 
leading characters. Their cant and extravagant language, 
the inconsistency of their dealing in feathers, and their 
ignorant hostility to the stage, are well satirized. It is 
important to note that Randolph was one of the Sons of 

^ Hist. Eng. Dram. Lit. 2. 517. 



Introduction xxxi 

Ben, and that in this comedy, both in his manner and in 
what he satirized, he was plainly influenced by the older 
poet. 

Viewed as a whole, the satire of contemporary drama- 
tists against the Puritans was scattered and fragmentary. 
The few who give the Puritans more attention, render their 
shafts ineffective by their carelessness of aim and indiffer- 
ence in manner. Randolph is an exception, but he follows 
Jonson so closely that it is hardly necessary to give him 
special consideration. 

It is a fact of no little significance that, while Jonson 
scrutinized the typical and individual failings of the Puri- 
tans with a thoroughness that makes his satire surpass that 
of all the other dramatists put together, nowhere in his 
comedies does he charge them with social impurity. I can- 
not regard it as accidental ; the suggestion of making such 
an accusation certainly is found in Marston's Malcontent, 
The Puritan, and Middleton's Family of Love, all of which 
were produced a few years previous to The Alchemist; 
neither Jonson's delicacy nor the standards of the times 
would have stigmatized such a subject as improper for the 
stage. 

The evidence is fairly conclusive that Jonson deliberately 
chose not to make such a charge, and that in his hostility 
he practised moderation, laying hold only of that which in 
his judgment rightly deserved the lash. Nor is this incon- 
sistent with his satire on the dishonesty and hypocrisy of 
the Puritans, although, as I have said, these failings are 
not to be regarded as characterizing the class as a whole. 
Jonson was a man of strong prejudices, and even a few 
cases of religious imposition and deceit brought to his 
attention might easily have colored a feeling already some- 
what averse to the Puritans. What seems to be his 
real judgment regarding them, expressed in plain and 
concise form, is found in a passage in Timber, which I 
translate : 'The Puritan hypocrite is a fanatic mentally 
unbalanced by a belief in his own peculiar vision, by which 



xxxii Introduction 

he thinks he has discovered certain errors in a few of the 
dogmas of the church. Thence seized by a holy frenzy, 
he madly resists the magistrates, believing that he is thus 
showing obedience to God.' 

That Jonson, of all the Jacobean dramatists, should have 
been the one especially to attack the Puritans, is extremely 
paradoxical. At heart he was a very Puritan himself. He 
could never resist an opportunity for preaching; as he 
says in the Prologue of The Alchemist, 

This pen 
Did never aim to grieve, but better men. 

More than once he himself attacked the stage, and far 
surpassed the similar efforts of the Puritans, because he 
knew better of what he spoke. But Jonson resembled the 
Puritans also in their failings : he lacked tolerance and 
sympathy. As it was not easy for him to appreciate a 
rival playwright, it was also difficult for him to do justice 
to a rival moralist. And for himself to attack his own 
profession was quite different from standing silently by, 
and seeing outsiders ignorantly and abusively attempt the 
same. The latter, to a man of his combative nature, was 
a challenge which professional honor would not allow 
him to ignore. His attitude toward the Puritans, further, 
may have been influenced not a little by religious prejudice. 
From the Conversations with Drummond we know that for 
twelve years after his imprisonment in 1598, he was a pro- 
fessed Catholic. Could the Puritans' absurd fears and bitter 
denunciations of popery have failed to awaken antagonism 
in this rough fighter ? 

Finally, Jonson was hostile to the Puritans because he 
failed to appreciate their real spirit. As has already been 
observed, his genius was powerful and massive rather than 
delicate and graceful. There was a lack of the finest 
feeling. He gloried in the great monuments of philo- 
sophical and scientific knowledge, but , the noble idealism 
that transcends all that is mere intellect, he only dimly 



Introduction xxxiii 

apprehended. His attitude toward Shakespeare was dis- 
tingliished by a large and generous admiration, and yet it 
was an admiration chiefly of the remarkable powers of a 
master-mind. The same limitation marks his portrayal of 
the Puritans. He did not exhibit the poet's power of seeing 
deep into their spirit. Thus his satire fails to be the truest 
and most convincing, and at times borders upon caricature. 
This was how Bartholomew Fair impressed Samuel Pepys 
as he saw it in 1668 : Tt is an excellent play ; the more I 
see it, the more I love the wit of it ; only the business of 
abusing the Puritans begins to grow stale, and of no use, 
they being the people that, at last, will be found the wisest.' 



BARTHOLMEW 

FAYRE: 

A COMEDIE, 

ACTED IN THE 

YE ARE, 1 6 14. 

By the Lady ELIZABETHS 
Servants. 

And then dedicated to King lAMES, of 
moft Bleffed Memorie ; 



By the Author, BENIAMIN IOHNSON. 



Si foret in terris, rideret Democritus : nam 

Spedlaret populuni ludis attentius ipfis, 
Vt fibi pj'oientem, mimo fpeclaciila plura. 
Scj-iptores auiem narrare putaret ajjfello 
Fabellam furdo. Hor. lib. 2. Epift. I. 



[Device of a 
Wolf's Head 
Erased, etc.] 



LONDON, 

Printed by /. B. for Robert Allot, and are 

to be fold at the figne of the Beare, in Pauls 
Church-yard. 1631. 



THE 

PROLOGVE 

TO 

THE KINGS 

MAIESTY. 



Y 



Our Maiefly is welcome to a Fayre ; 

Such place, fuch men, fuck language &' fuch ware, 

You mzijl expefl : with thefe, the zealous noyfe 

Of your lands Fa<5lion, fcandaliz' d at toyes, 

As Babies, Hobhy-horfes, Puppet-play es, 

Aiid fuch like rage, whereof the petidatit wayes 

Your felfe haue knowne, and haue bin vext with long. 

Thefe for your f port, without perticular wrong, 

Or iufl coinplaint of any priuate man, 

( Who of himfelfe, or fliall thinke well or can) 

The Maker doth prefefit : a?td hopes, to night 

To giue you for a Fay ring, true delight. 



THE PERSONS 

OF THE PLAY. 



lOHN LiTTLEWIT. 

Win Little-wit. 
Dame Pvrecraft. 
Zeal-of-the-land Bvsy. 
Win-wife, 
qvarlovs. 
Bartholmew Cokes. 

HVMPHREY WaSPE. 

Adam Over-doo. 
Dame Overdoo. 
Grace Welborne. 
Lant. Leatherhead. 
Ioane Trash. 

EZECHIEL EdGWORTH. 

Nightingale. 
Vrsla. 
Moon-calfe. 
Iordan Knock-hvm, 
Val. Cvtting. 
Captaine Whit. 
PvNQVE Alice. 
Trovble-All. 



A Pro^lor. 

His wife. 

Her mother and a widdow. 

Her Suitor, a Banbury man. 

His jRiuall, a Gentle??ian. 

His companion, a Gamejler. 

An Ef quire of Harrow. 

His man. 

A luflice of Peace. 

His wife. 

His Ward. 

A Hobbi-horfe feller. 

A Ginger-bread woman. 

A Cutpurfe. 

A Ballad- finger. 

A Pigge-woman. 

Her Tapfler. 

A Horfe-courfer, and ranger 

A Roarer. [o' Turjibull. 

A Bawd. 

Miflreffe o'the Game. 

A Madman. 



Whtchmen, three. 

CosTARD-monger. 

MovsETRAP-man. 

Clothier. 

Wrestler. 

Porters. 

Doore-keepers. 

PVPPETS. 



WATCHMEN, three, 7692 : Three Watchmen J77<5, W 



THE INDVCTION. 

ON THE STAGE. 

Stage-Keeper. 

Gentlemen, haue a little patience, they are e'en 
vpon comming, inflantly. He that Ihould 
beginne the Play, Mafler Littletvit, the Pro^or, 
has a flitch new falne in his black filk flocking ; 
'twill be drawn vp ere you can tell twenty. He playes 5 
one o'the Arches, that dwels about the Hofpitall, and hee 
has a very pretty part. But for the whole Play, will you 
ha'the truth on't ? (I am looking, left the Poet heare me, 
or his man, Mafler Broome, behind the Arras) it is like to 
be a very conceited fcuruy one, in plaine Englifh. When't 10 
comes to the Fayre, once : you were e'en as good goe to 
Virginia, for any thing there is of Smith-field. Hee has 
not hit the humors, he do's not know 'hem ; hee has not 
conuers'd with the Bartholmew-hirds, as they fay ; hee has 
ne're a Sword, and Buckler man in his Fayre, nor a little 15 
Dauy, to take toll o'the Bawds there, as in my time, nor a 
Kind-heart, if any bodies teeth fhould chance to ake in his 
Play. Nor a lugler with a wel-educated Ape to come 
ouer the chaine, for the King of England, and backe againe 
for the Prince, and fit flill on his arfe for the Pope, and the 20 
King of Spaine\ None o'these fine fights ! Nor has he 
the Canuas-cut 'ithe night, for a Hobby-horfeman to 
creepe into his flie-neighbour, and take his leap there ! 
Nothing ! No, and fome writer (that I know) had had but 
the penning o'this matter, hee would ha'made you fuch 25 



6 THE INDVCTION. 

a lig-ajogge i'the boothes, you Ihould ha'thought an 
earthquake had beene i'the Fayre\ But thefe Mafler- 
Poets, they will ha'their owne abfurd courfes ; they will 
be inform'd of nothing ! Hee has {Jlrreuerettce) kick'd me 
5 three, or foure times about the Tyring-houfe, I thanke 
him, for but offering to putt in, with my experience. I'le 
be iudg'd by you, Gentlemen, now, but for one conceit of 
mine ! would not a fine Pumpe vpon the Stage ha'done 
well, for a property now ? and a Punque fet vnder vpon 

10 her head, with her Sterne vpward, and ha'beene fouf 'd by 
my wity young maflers o'the Innes o'Cotirt ? what thinke 
you o'this for a fhew, now ? hee will not heare o'this! I 
am an Affe ! I ! and yet I kept the Stage in Mafler Tarle- 
tons time, I thanke my flarres. Ho ! and that man had 

15 liu'd to haue play'd in Barthohnew Fay re, you fhould 
ha'feene him ha'come in, and ha'beene coozened i'the 
Cloath-quarter, fo finely ! And Adams, the Rogue, ha' 
leap'd and caper'd vpon him, and ha'dealt his vermine 
about, as though they had cofl him nothing. And then a 

20 fubflantiall watch to ha'flolne in vpon 'hem, and taken 
'hem away, with miflaking words, as the fafhion is, in the 
6'/a^^-pra6lice, 

Booke-holder : Scriuener. To hun. 

Booke. How now ? what rare difcourfe are you falne 
vpon? ha? ha'you found any familiars here, that you are 
25 fo free ? what's the bufineffe ? 

Sta. Nothing, but the vnderflanding Gentlemen o'the 
ground here, ask'd my iudgement. 

Booke. Your iudgement, Rafcall ? for what ? fweeping 

the Stage ? or gathering vp the broken Apples for the 

30 beares within ? Away Rogue, it's come to a fine degree 



THE INDVCTION. 7 

in thefe fpe6lacles when fuch a youth as you pretend to a 
iudgement. And yet hee may, i'the moft o'this matter 
i'faith : For the Author hath writ it iuft to his Meridian, 
and the Scale of the grounded Judgements here, his Play- 
fellowes in wit. Gentlemen ; not for want of a Prologue^ e 
but by way of a new one, I am fent out to you here, with 
a Scriuener, and certaine Articles drawne out in haft 
betweene our Author, and you ; which if you pleafe to 
heare, and as they appeare reafonable, to approue of ; the 
Play will follow prefently. Read, Scribe, gi'me the Counter- xo 
paine. 

Scr. Articles of Agreement, indented, betweene the 
SpeHators or Hearers, at the Hope on the Bankefide, in 
the County of Surrey on the one party ; And the Author of 
Bartholmew Fayre in the faid place, and County on the 15 
other party : the one and thirtieth day of OHob. 1614. and 
in the twelfth yeere of the Raigne of our Soueragine Lord, 
Iames by the grace of God Ki7ig of England, Fra7ice, &' 
Ireland ; Defender of the faith. And of Scotland Xho. feauen 
and fortieth. 20 

Inprimis, It is couenanted and agreed, by and betweene 
the parties abouefaid, and the faid SpeHators, and Hearers, 
afwell the curious and enuious, as the fauouring and 
iudicious, as alfo the grounded Judgements and vnder- 
ftandings, doe for themfelues feuerally Couenant, and 25 
agree to remaine in the places, their money or friends 
haue put them in, with patience, for the fpace of two 
houres and an halfe, and fomewhat more. In which time 
the Author promifeth to prefent them by vs, with a new 
fufficient Play called Bartholmew Fayre, merry, and 30 
as full of noife, as fport : made to delight all, and to 

22 abouefaid] aforesaid G 



8 THE INDVCTION. 

offend none. Prouided they haue either, the w.it or 
the honefly to thinke well of themfelues. 

It is further agreed that euery perfon here, haue his or 
their free-will of cenfure, to like or diflike at their owne 
5 charge, the Author hauing now departed with his right: 
It fhall be lawfull for any man to iudge his fix pen'orth 
his twelue pen'orth, fo to his eighteene pence, 2. fhillings, 
halfe a crowne, to the value of his place: Prouided alwaies 
his place get not aboue his wit. And if he pay for halfe a 

10 dozen, hee may cenfure for all them too, fo that he will 
vndertake that they fhall bee filent. Hee fhall put in for 
Cenfures here, as they doe for lots at the lottery : mary if he 
drop but fixe pence at the doore, and will cenfure a 
crownes worth, it is thought there is no confcience, or 

15 iuftice in that. 

It is alfo agreed, that euery man heere, exercife his 
owne ludgement, and not cenfure by Contagion, or vpon 
trujl, from anothers voice, or face, that fits by him, be he 
neuer fo firfl, in the Commifsion of Wit : As alfo, that hee 

20 bee fixt and fettled in his cenfure, that what hee approues, 
or not approues to day, hee will doe the fame to morrow, 
and if to morrow, the next day, and fo the next weeke 
(if neede be :) and not to be brought about by any that fits 
on the Bench with him, though they indite, and arraigne 

25 Playes daily. Hee that will fweare, leronimo, or Andronicus 
are the befl playes, yet, fhall paffe vnexcepted at, heere, 
as a man whofe ludgement fhewes it is conflant, and hath 
Hood flill, thefe fiue and twentie, or thirtie yeeres. Though 
it he 2in Ignorance, it is a vertuous and flay'd ignorance; 

20 and next to truth, a confirm'd errour does well ; fuch a 
one the Author knowes where to finde him. 



THE INDVCTION. 9 

It is further couenanted, concluded and agreed, that 
how great foeuer the expectation bee, no perfon here, is 
to expe6l more then hee knowes, or better ware then a 
Fayre will aflfoord : neyther to looke backe to the fword 
and buckler-age of Smithfield, but content himfelfe with 5 
the prefent. In flead of a little JDaiiy^ to take toll o'the 
Bawds, the Author doth promife a ftrutting Jlorfe-coiirfer, 
with a leere-Dmnkixxd, two or three to attend him, in as 
good Equipage as you would wifli. And then for Kinde- 
heart, the Tooth-drawer, a fine oyly Pig-wo7nan with her 10 
TapJIer, to bid you welcome, and a confort of Roarers for 
mufique. A wife lujlice of Peace jfieditajit, in flead of a 
lugler, with an Ape. A ciuill Cutpurfe fear chant. A fweete 
Singer of new Ballads allurant : and as frefli an Hypocrite, 
as euer was broach'd rampant. If there bee neuer a Seruant- 15 
inonjler i'the Fayre ; who can helpe it ? he fayes ; nor a 
nefl of Antiques ? Hee is loth to make Nature afraid in his 
Flayes, like thofe that beget Tales. Tempejls, and fuch like 
Drolleries, to mixe his head with other mens heeles, let the 
concupifence of ligges and F)ances, raigne as flrong as it 20 
will amongfl you : yet if the Fuppets will pleafe any body, 
they fhall be entreated to come in. 

In confederation of which, it is finally agreed, by the fore- 
faid hearers, 2iX\6.fpe^ators, that they neyther in themfelues 
conceale, nor fuffer by them to be concealed any State- 25 
decipherer, or politique Ficklocke of the Scene, fo folemnly 
ridiculous, as to fearch out, who was meant by the Ginger- 
bread-woman, who by the Hobby-horfe-man, who by the 
Coflard-monger, nay, who by their Wares. Or that will 
pretend to affirme (on his owne infpired ignorance') what 30 
Mirror of Magiflrates is meant by the luflicc, what great 

23 aforesaid W, G 



lo THE INDVCTION. 

Lady by the Pigge-7vomaji, what conceal' d Statef-man, by the 
Seller of Moufe-trappes, and fo of the refl. But that fuch 
perfon, or perfons, fo found, be left difcouered to the 
mercy of the Author, as a forfeiture to the Stage, and your 

5 laughter, aforefaid. As alfo, fuch as fhall fo defperately, 
or ambitioufly, play the foole by his place aforefaid, to 
challenge the Author of fcurrilitie, becaufe the language 
fome where fauours of Smithfield, the Booth, and the Pig- 
broath, or of prophaneneffe, becaufe a Mad-man cryes, God 

lo quit you, or bleffe you. In witneffe whereof, as you haue 
prepolleroufly put to your Seales already (which is your 
money) you will now adde the other part of fufifrage, your 
hands, The Play fhall prefently begin. And though the 
Fayre be not kept in the fame Region, that fome here, 

15 perhaps, would haue it, yet thinke, that therein the Author 
hath obferu'd a fpeciall Decorum, the place being as durty 
as Smithfield, and as (linking euery whit. 

Howfoeiier, hee prayes you to beleeue, his Ware is flill 
the fame, elfe you will make him iullly fufpedl that hee 

20 that is fo loth to looke on a Baby, or an Hobby-horfe., heere, 
would bee glad to take vp a Commodity of them, at any 
laughter, or loffe, in another place. 



BARTHOLMEVV.., 

FAYRE. 



Act. I. Scene. I. 

LiTTLE-vviT. \ To him \ Win. 

A Pretty conceit, and worth the finding! I ha'fuch 
lucke to fpinne out thefe fine things flill, and 
like a Silke-worme, out of my felfe. Her's 
Mafler Bartholomew Cokes, of Harrow oWi hill, i'th 
County of Middle/ex, Efquire, takes forth his Licence, to 5 
marry Miflreffe Grace Wel-borne of the faid place and 
County: and when do's hee take it foorth ? to day! the 
f oure and twentieth of Augufl ! Bartholview day ! Barthol- 
mew vpon Bartholmewl there's the deuice! who would 
haue mark'd fuch a leap-frogge chance now ? A very leffe 10 
then Ames-ace, on two Dice! well, goe thy wayes lohtt 
Little-ivit, Pro6lor lohn Little-wit : One o'the pretty wits 
o'Fauls, the Little wit of London (fo thou art call'd) and 
fome thing befide. When a quirk, or a quiblin do's fcape 
thee, and thou dofl not watch, and apprehend it, and bring 15 
it afore the Conflable of conceit: (there now, I fpeake 
quib too) let 'hem carry thee out o'the Archdeacons Court, 
into his Kitchin, and make a Lack of thee, in flead of a 
Lohn. (There I am againe la!) Win, Good morrow, Witt. 

G makes but one scene of Act 1. 

3 Her's] Here's 769^, lyib, W, G 10 G would insert ViiXXe between 

very' 'and leffe. 



12 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

I marry Wm ! Now you looke finely indeed, Win ! this 
Cap do's conuince! youl'd not ha'worne it, Win, nor ha' 
had it veluet, but a rough countrey Beauer, with a copper- 
band, like the Conney- skinne woman of Budge- row "i 
5 Sweete Win, let me kiffe it! And. her fine high fhooes, 
like the SpaniJJi Lady ! Good Win, goe a litle I would 
faine fee thee pace, pretty Win ! By this fine Cap, I 
could neuer leaue kiffing on't. 
[2] Win. Come, indeede la, you are fuch a foole, flill ! 

10 LiTT. No, but halfe a one. Win, you are the tother 
halfe : man and wife make one foole. Win. (Good !) Is 
there the Pro6lor, or Do6lor indeed, i'the Dioceffe, that 
euer had the fortune to win him fuch a Win\ (There I am 
againe !) I doe feele conceits comming vpon mee, more 

15 then I am able to turne tongue too. A poxe o'thefe pre- 
tenders, to wit ! your Three Crazies, Miter, and Mermaid 
men ! Not a corne of true fait, nor a graine of right 
muflard amongfl them all. They may fland for places or 
fo, againe the next Wit fall, and pay two pence in a quart 

20 more for their Canary, then other men. But gi'mee the 
man, can flart vp a lujlice of Wit out of fix-fliillings beare, 
and giue the law to all the Poets, and Poet-fuckers i'Towne, 
becaufe they are the Players Goffips ? 'Slid, other men 
haue wiues as fine as the Players, and as well drefl. Come 

25 hither, Win. 



Act. I. Scene. IJ. 

VVlN-WIFE. LiTTLEVVIT. WiN. 

TyTT 7"Hy, how now Mailer Little-wit\ meafuring of lips? 

or molding of kiffes ? which is it ? 

LiTT. Troth I am a little taken with my Wijis dreffing 

here ! Do'fl not fine Mailer Win-wife ? How doe you 

30 apprehend, Sir? Shee would not ha'worne this habit. 

17 nor] not i6g2, 17 16, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 13 

I challenge all Cheapfide^ to fhew fuch another: Morefields, 
Pimlico path, or the Exchange, in a fommer euening, with 
a Lace to boot as this has. Deare Win, let Mafler Win- 
wife kiffe you. Hee comes a wooing to our mother Win, 
and may be our father perhaps, Win. There's no harme 5 
in him, Win. 

WiN-w. None i'the earth, Mailer Little-wit. 

LiTT. I enuy no man, my delicates. Sir. 

WiN-w. Alas, you ha'the garden where they grow Hill ! 
A wife heere with a Stratvbery-\iXt,2X\\, Chery-Vv^'s, Apricot- 10 
cheekes, and a foft veluet head, like a Melicotton. 

LiTT. Good y'faith! now dulneffe vpon mee, that I 
had not that before him, that I fliould not light on't, as 
well as he! Veluet head! 

WiN-w. But my tafle, Mafler Little-wit, tends to frui6l 15 
of a later kinder the fober Matron, yovir wiues mother. 

LiTT. I ! wee know you are a Suitor, Sir. Win, and I 
both, wifh you well ; by this Licence here, would you had 
her, that your two names were as fafl in it, as here are a 
couple. Win would faine haue a fine young father i'law, 20 
withafether: that her mother might hood it, and chaine [3] 
it, with Miflris Ouer-doo. But, you doe not take the right 
courfe, Mafler Win-wife. 

WiN-w. No ? Mafler Litle-wit, why ? 

Lit. You are not madde enough. 25 

WiN-w. How? Is madneffe a right courfe ? 

Lit. I fay nothing, but I winke vpon Win. You haue 
a friend, one (Mafler Quarlous) comes here fome times ? 

WiN-w. Why ? he makes no loue to her, do's he ? 

Lit. Not a tokenworth that euer I faw, I affure you, 30 
But— 

WiN-w. What ? 

Lit. He is the more Mad-cap o'the two. You doe not 
apprehend mee. 

Win. You haue a hot coale i'your mouth, now, you 35 
cannot hold. 

16 later] laUer i6q2, 1716, W 



14 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Lit. Let mee out with it, deare IVi'n. 
Win. I'll tell him my felfe. 

Lit. Doe, and take all the thanks, and much do good 
thy pretty heart, IVm. 
5 Win. Sir, my mother has had her natiuity-water cafl 
lately by the Cunning men in Cora-lane, and they ha'told 
her her fortune, and doe enfure her, Ihce fiiall neuer haue 
happy houre; vnleffe fhee marry within this fen'night, and 
when it is, it mufl be a Madde-man, they fay. 
lo Lit. I, but it mufl be a Gentle-man Mad-man. 
Win. Yes, fo the tother man of More-fields fayes. 
WiN-w. But do's fhee beleeue 'hem ? 
Lit. Yes, and ha's beene at Bedlem twice fmce, euery 
day, to enquire if any Gentleman be there, or to come 
15 there, mad! 

WiN-w. Why, this is a confederacy, a meere piece of 
pra<5lice vpon her, by thefe Impojlors ? 

Lit. I tell her fo ; or elfe fay I, that they meane fome 
young-Madcap-Gentleman (for the diuell can equiuocate, as 
20 well as a Shop-keeper) and therefore would I aduife you, 
to be a little madder, then Mafler Quarlous, hereafter. 
Win. Where is fhee ? flirring yet ? 

Lit. Stirring! Yes, and fludying an old Elder, come 
from Banbury, a Suitor that puts in heere at meale-tyde, 
25 to praife the painefuU brethren, or pray that the fweet 
fingers may be redor'd ; Sayes a grace as long as his 
breath lafls him ! Some time the fpirit is fo flrong with 
him, it gets quite out of him, and then my mother, or 
Win, are faine to fetch it againe with Malmefey, or Aqua 
30 ccelejiis. 

Win. Yes indeed, we haue fuch a tedious life with him 
for his dyet, and his clothes too, he breaks his buttons, 
and cracks feames at euery faying he fobs out. 
loH. He cannot abide my Vocation, he fayes. 
35 Win. No, he told my mother, a Prober was a claw 
[4] of the Beajl, and that fhe had little leffe then committed 
abomination in marrying me fo as fhe ha's done. 

17 Impojlors f\ Impostors, ibgs, 17 16, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 15 

lOH. Euery line (he fayes) that a ProHor writes, when 
it comes to be read in the Bifhops Court, is a long blacke 
hayre, kemb'd out of the tayle of Anti-Chrijl. 

WiN-w. When came this Profelyte ? 

loH. Some three dayes fince. 



Act. I. Scene. IIJ. 

QVARLOVS, lOHN, VViN, VVlN-VVIFE. 

/^ Sir, ha'you tane foyle, here ? it's well, a man may 
reach you, after 3. houres running, yet ! what an 
vnmercifull companion art thou, to quit thy lodging, at 
fuch vngentle manly houres ? None but a fcatterd couey 
of Fidlers, or one of thefe Rag-rakers in dung-hills, or 10 
fome Marrow-bone man at mofl, would haue beene vp, 
when thou wert gone abroad, by all defcription. I pray 
thee what aylefl thou, thou canft not fleepe ? hafl thou 
Thornes i'thy eye-lids, or Thiflles i'thy bed. 

WiN-w. I cannot tell : It feemes you had neither i' 15 
your feet; that tooke this paine to find me. 

QvAR. No, and I had, all the Lime-hounds o'the 
City fhould haue drawne after you, by the fent rather, M' 
lohn Little-wit ! God faue you, Sir. 'Twas a hot night with 
fome of vs, laft night, lo/in : fhal we pluck a hayre o'the 20 
fame Wolfe, to da}^ Pro6lor lo/in ? 

loH. Doe you remember Mafter Quarlous, what wee 
difcourft on, laft night ? 

QvAR. Not I, lohn : nothing that I eyther difcourfe or 
doe, at thofe times I forfeit all to forgetfulneffe. 25 

lOH. No ? not concerning IVin, looke you : there fhee 

is, and dreft as I told you fhe ftiould be: harke you Sir, 

had you forgot ? 

14 bed.] Bed? /6<p2, 17/6, JV, G 
18 fent] Scent j6g2, 17 16, W, G, as regularly . . . rather,] rather. 
i6g2, 1716, W: rather. — G 

25 doe,] do; G 26 Win,] Win? 1716, IV, G 



i6 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

QvAR. By this head, I'le beware how I keepe you com- 
pany, lohn^ when 1 drunke, and you haue this dangerous 
memory ! that's certaine. 
loH. Why Sir ? 
5 QvAR. Why ? we were all a little flain'd lafl night, 
fprinckled with a cup or two, and I agreed with Pro6lor 
lohn heere, to come and doe fomewhat with Win (I know 
not what 'twas) to day ; and he puts mee in minde on't, 
now ; hee fayes hee was comming to fetch me : before Truth, 
lo if you haue that fearefuU quality, lohn, to remember, when 
you are fober, lohn, what you promife drunke, Iohn\ I 
fhall take heed of you, lohn. For this once, I am content 
[5] to winke at you, where's your wife ? come hither Win. 

{He kiffeth her. 
15 Win. Why, lohti ! doe you fee this, John ? looke you ! 
helpe me, lohn. 

loH. O Wi7i, fie, whatdoyoumeane. Win ! Be womanly, 
Win ; make an outcry to your mother, Win ? Mafler Quar- 
lous is an honeft Gentleman, and our worfhipfull good 
20 friend. Win : and he is Mafler Winwifes friends, too : And 
Mafler Win-wife comes a Suitor to your mother Win ; as I 
told you before. Win, and may perhaps, be our Father, 
Win, they'll do you no harme. Win, they are both our 
worfhipfull good friends. Mafler Quarloics ! you mufl 
25 know M^ Quarloiis, Win ; you mufl not quarrel 1 with 
Mafler Quarlous, Win. 

QvAR. No, we'll kiffe againe and fall in. 
loH. Yes, doe good Win. 
Win. Y'faith you are a foole, lohn. 
go loH. A Foole-Iohn fhe calls me, doe you marke that, 
Gentlemen ? pretty littlewit of veluet ! a iooX^-Iohn ! 
QvAR. She may call you an Apple-/(5>/;;/, if you vfe this. 
WiN-w. Pray thee forbeare, for my refpe6l fomewhat. 
QvAR. Hoy-day! how refpe(5tiue you are become o'the 
35 fudden ! I feare this family will turne you reformed too, 

2 I drunke] I am drunk i6g2, 1716, IV, G : Cun. suggests I drink. 

20 friends] Friend i6g2, 1716, W, G 

23 The first Win followed by a colon j6g2, ijiO, IV, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 17 

pray you come about againe. Becaufe flie is in poffibility 
to be your davxghter in law, and may aske you bleffing 
hereafter, when (he courts it to Totnavi to eat creame. 
Well, I will forbeare. Sir, but i'faith, would thou wouldll 
leaue thy exercife of widdow-hunting once! this drawing 5 
after an old reuerend Smocke by the fplay-foote : There 
cannot be an ancient Tripe or Trillibub i'the Towne, but 
thou art flraight nofmg it, and 'tis a fine occupation thou'lt 
confine thy felfe to, when thou ha'fl got one; fcrubbing a 
piece of Bufife, as if thou hadfl the perpetuity of Paiwyer- 10 
alley to flinke in ; or perhaps, worfe, currying a carkaffe, 
that thou hafl bound thy felfe to aliue. I'll befworne, fome 
of them, (that thou art, or hafl. beene a Suitor to) are fo old, 
as no chart, or marryed pleafure can euer become 'hem : 
the honeft Inflrument of procreation, has (forty yeeres 15 
fince) left to belong to 'hem, thou murt vifit 'hem, as thou 
wouldrt doe a Tombe, with a Torch, or three hand-fulls of 
Lincke, flaming hot, and fo thou mairt hap to make 'hem 
feele thee, and after, come to inherit according to thy inches. 
A fweet courfe for a man to wafte the brand of life for, to 20 
be ftill raking himfelfe a fortune in an old womans em- 
bers ; we fliall ha'thee after thou haft beene but a moneth 
marryed to one of 'hem, looke like the quartane ague, and 
the black laundife met in a face, and walke as if thou had'ft 
borrow'd legges of a Spinner, and voyce of a Cricket. I 25 
would endure to heare fifteene Sermons aweeke for her, 
and fuch courfe, and lowd one's, as fome of 'hem muft be; 
I would een defire of Fate, I might dwell in a drumme, 
and take in my fuftenance, with an old broken Tobacco- 
pipe and a Straw. Doft thou euer thinke to bring thine [6] 
eares or ftomack, to the patience of a drie grace, as long 
as thy Tablecloth ? and droan'd out by thy fonne, here, 
(that might be thy father;) till all the meat o'thy board 
has forgot, it was that day i'the Kitchin ? Or to brooke 
the noife made, in a qvieftion of Predejlination, by the 35 
good labourers and painefull eaters, affembled together, 

27 and such coarse and loud ones W, G 



1 8 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

put to 'hem by the Matron, your Spoufe; who moderates 
with a cup of wine, euer and anone, and a Sentence out 
of Knoxe between ? or the perpetuall fpitting, before, and 
after a fober drawne exhortation of fix houres, whofe better 
5 part was the hum-ha-hum ? Or to heare prayers groan'd 
out, ouer thy iron-chefls, as if they were charmes to breake 
'hem ? And all this for the hope of two ^/<9/?/^-fpoones, 
to fuffer ! and a cup to eate a cawdle in! For that will be 
thy legacy. She'll ha'conuey'd her flate, fafe enough 
lo from thee, an' fhe be a right widdow. 

Win. Alaffe, I am quite off that fent now. 

QvAR. How fo ? 

WiNw. Put off by a Brother of Banbury^ one, that, they 
fay, is come heere, and gouernes all, already. 
15 QvAR. What doe you call him ? I knew diuers of 
thofe Banburians when I was in Oxford. 

WiN-w. Mafler Little-wit can tell vs. 

loH. Sir ! good Win, goe in, and if Mafler Barthol- 
mew Cokes — his man come for the Licence: (the little old 
20 fellow) let him fpeake with me ; what fay you. Gentle- 
men ? 

WiN-w. What call you the Reuerend Elder ? you told 
me of ? your Banbury-va?ir\. 

loH. Rabbi Bufy, Sir, he is more then an Elder, he is a 
25 Prophet, Sir. 

QvAR. O, I know him ! a Baker, is he not ? 

loH. Hee was a Baker, Sir, but hee do's dreame now, 
and fee vifions, hee has giuen ouer his Trade. 

QvAR. I remember that too : out of a fcruple hee tooke, 

30 that (in fpic'd confcience) thofe Cakes hee made, were 

feru'd to Bridales, May-poles, Morriffes, and fuch prophane 

feafls and meetings ; his Chriflen-name is Zeale-of-the-latid. 

loH. Yes, Sir, Zeale-of-the-la/id Bufye. 

WiN-w. How, what a name's there ! 
35 loH. O, they haue all fuch names. Sir; he was Witneffe, 
for Win, here, (they will not be call'd God-fathers) and 
nam'd her VVinne-the- fight, you thought her name had 
beene VVinnifred, did you not ? 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 19 

WiN-w. I did indeed. 

loH. Hee would ha'thought himfelfe a ftarke Repro- 
bate, if it had. 

QvAR. I, for there was a Blew-starch-woman o'the 
name, at the fame time, A notable hypocriticall vermine 5 
it is ; I know him. One that fLands vpon his face, more 
then his faith, at all times ; Euer in feditious motion, and [7] 
reprouing for vaine-glory : of a mofl lunatique confcience, 
and fplene, and affe6ls the violence of Singularity in all he 
do's: (He has vndone a Grocer here, in Newgate-market, 10 
that broke with him, trufled him with Currans, as errant 
a Zeale as he, that's by the way: by his profefl'ion, hee will 
euer be i'the flate of Innocence, though; and child-hood; 
derides all Antiquity; defies any other Z^ar;//;;^, then Infpir- 
ation\ and what difcretion foeuer, yeeres fhould afford him, 15 
it is all preuented in his Originall ignorance; ha'not to doe 
with him : for hee is a fellow of a mofl arrogant, and in- 
uincible dulneffe, I affure you ; who is this ? 



Act. I. ScEENE. IIIJ. 
. Waspe. Iohn. Win-wife. Qvarlovs. 

T> Y your leaue, Gentlemen, with all my heart to you: 

and god you good morrow; M'' Little-ivit^ my bufi- 20 
neffe is to you. Is this Licence ready ? 

loH. Heere, I ha'it for you, in my hand, yia.^eY Humph- 
rey. 

Was. That's well, nay, neuer open, or read it to me, 
it's labour in vaine, you know. I am no Clearke, I fcorne 25 
to be fau'd by my booke, i'faith I'll hang firfl; fold it vp 
o' your word and gi'it mee; what mufl you ha'for't ? 

II arrant G, as regularly 
20 god you] God give you 769.?, ijib : give you W 



20 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

loH. We'll talke of that anon, Mafler Humphrey. 
Was. Now, or not at all, good M"^ ProHor, I am for no 
anon's, I affure you. 

loH. Sweet Win, bid Salomon fend mee the little blacke 
5 boxe within, in my fludy. 

Was. I, quickly, good Miflreffe, I pray you: for I 
haue both egges o'the Spit, and yron i'the fire, fay, what 
you muH haue, good M"" Little-wit. 

loH, Why, you know the price, M'' Numps. 

lo Was. I know ? I know nothing. I, what tell you 

mee of knowing? (now I am in hafl) Sir, I do not know, 

and I will not know, and I fcorne to know, and yet, (now 

I think o'nt) I will, and do know, as well as another; you 

must haue a Marks for your thing here, and eight pence for 

15 the boxe; I could ha'fau'd two pence i'that, an' I had 

bought it my felfe, but heere's foureteene JJiillings for you. 

Good Lord! how long your little wife flaies! pray God, 

Salomon,, your Gierke, be not looking i'the wrong boxe, 

M'' FroBor. 

20 loH. Good i'faith ! no, I warrant you, Salomoji is wifer 

then fo, Sir. 
[8] Was. Fie, fie, fie, by your leaue Mafler Little-wit, this 
is fcuruy, idle, foolifh and abominable, with all my heart ; 
I doe not like it. 
25 WiN-w. Doe you heare? Lacke Little-wit, what bufineffe 
do's thy pretty head thinke, this fellow may haue, that he 
keepes fuch a coyle with ? 

QvAR. More then buying of ginger-bread i'the Cloy- 
Jler, here, (for that wee allow him) or a guilt pouch i'the 
30 Fayre ? 

loH. Mafler Quarlous, doe not miflake him: he is his 
Mailers both-hands, I affure you. 

QvAR. What? to pull on his boots, a mornings, or his 
flockings, do's hee ? 
35 loH. Sir, if you haue a minde to mocke him, mocke 
him foftly, and looke to'ther way: for if hee apprehend 
you flout him, once, he will flie at you prefently. A ter- 
rible tellie old fellow, and his name is Wafpe too. 



BaRTHOLMEVV FaYRE. 21 

QvAR. Pretty InfeH ! make much on him. 

Was. a plague o'this box, and the poxe too, and on 
him that made it, and her that went for't, and all that 
fhould ha'fought it, fent it, or brought it! doe you fee, Sir? 

loH. Nay, good M"" Wafpe. 5 

Was. Good Mafter Hornet^ turd i'your teeth, hold you 
your tongue; doe not I know you? your father was a 
Fothecary, and fold glillers, more then hee gaue, I wuffe : 
and turd i'your little wiues teeth too (heere fhe comes) 
'twill make her fpit as fine as fhe is, for all her veluet- 10 
cullerd on her head. Sir. 

loH. O! be ciuill Mafler Numpes. 

Was. Why, fay I haue a humour not to be ciuill; how 
then ? who fliall compell me ? you ? 

loH. Here is the boxe, now. 15 

Was. Why a pox o'your boxe, once againe: let your 
little wife flale in it, and fhe will. Sir, I would haue you 
to vnderfland, and thefe Gentlemen too, if they pleafe — 

WiN-w. With all our hearts. Sir. 

Was. That I haue a charge. Gentlemen. 20 

loH. They doe apprehend, Sir. 

Was. Pardon me, Sir, neither they nor you, can appre- 
hend mee, yet. (you are an Affe) I haue a young Mafler, 
hee is now vpon his making and marring; the whole care 
of his well doing, is now mine. His foolirti fchole- 25 
maflers haue done nothing, but runne vp and downe the 
Countrey with him, to beg puddings, and cake-bread, of 
his tennants, and almost fpoyled him, he has learn'd 
nothing, but to fing catches^ and repeat rattle bladder rattle, 
and O, Madge. I dare not let him walke alone, for feare 30 
of learning of vile tunes, which hee will fing at fupper, 
and in the fermon-times ! if hee meete but a Carman i'the 
flreete, and I finde him not talke to keepe him off on him, 
hee will whiflle him, and all his tunes ouer, at night in 
his lleepe! he has a head full of Bees! I am faine now [9] 
(for this little time I am abfent) to leaue him in charge 
with a Gentlewoman; 'Tis true, fliee is A lujlice of Peace 



2 2 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

his wife, and a Gentlewoman o'the hood, and his naturall 
fifler: But what may happen, vnder a womans gouern- 
ment, there's the doubt. Gentlemen, you doe not know 
him: hee is another manner of peece then you think for! 
5 but nineteen yeere old, and yet hee is taller then either of 
you, by the head, God bleffe him. 

QvAR. Well, mee thinkes, this is a fine fellow! 

WiN-w. He has made his Mafler a finer by this defcrip- 
tion, I fhould thinke. 
lo QvAR. 'Faith, much about one, it's croffe and pile, 
whether for a new farthing. 

Was. I'll tell you Gentlemen — 

loH. Will't pleafe you drinke, Mafler VVafpel 

Was. Why, I ha'not talk't fo long to be drie. Sir, you 
15 fee no duft or cobwebs come out o'my mouth: doe you ? 
you'ld ha'me gone, would you ? 

loH. No, but you were in haft e'en now, M'' Nimipes. 

Was. What an* I were ? f o I am flill, and yet I will 
flay too; meddle you with your match, your Win, there, 
20 fhe has as little wit, as her husband it feemes: I haue 
others to talke to. 

loH. She's my match indeede, and as little wit as I, 
Good! 

Was. We ha'bin but a day and a halfe in towne, Gen- 

25 tlemen, 'tis true; and yefler day i'the afternoone, we 

walk'd London, to fhew the City to the Gentlewoman, he 

(hall marry, Miflreffe Grace; but, afore I will endure fuch 

another halfe day, with him, I'll be drawne with a good 

Gib-cat, through the great pond at home, as his vncle 

30 Hodge was! why, we could not meet that heathen thing, all 

day, but flayd him: he would name you all the Signes 

ouer, as hee went, aloud: and where he fpi'd a Parrat, or 

a Monkey, there hee was pitch'd, with all the littl-long- 

coats about him, male and female; no getting him away! 

35 I thought he would ha'runne madde o'the blacke boy in 

Bucklers-bury, that takes the fcury, roguy tobacco, there. 

5 years j6g2, 17 16, JV, G 30 all the day W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 23 

loH. You fay true, M.2i?iQr Numpes: there's fuch a one 
indeed. 

Was. It's no matter, whether there be, or no, what's 
that to you ? 

QvAR. He will not allow of Johns reading at any hand, 5 



Act. I. Scene. V. [lo] 

Cokes. Miftris Over-doo. Waspe. Grace. 
QvARLOvs. Win-wife. Iohn. Win. 

t~\ Numpes ! are you here Numpes ? looke where I am, 
Numpes ! and Miflris Grace, too ! nay, doe not looke 
angerly, Numpes : my Sifler is heere, and all, I doe not 
come without her. 

Was. What, the mifchiefe, doe you come with her ? or 10 
fhee with you ? 

CoK. We came all to feeke you, Numpes. 

Was. To feeke mee ? why, did you all thinke I was 
loft ? or runne away with your foureteene fliillings worth 
of fmall ware, here ? or that I had chang'd it i'the Fayre, 15 
for hobby-horfes i* S'pretious — to feeke me! 

Over. Nay, good M"^ Numpes, doe you fhew difcretion, 
though he bee exoribitant, (as M"' Ouer-doo faies,) and't be 
but for conferuation of Xho. peace. 

Was. Mary gip, goody (\\e-lujlice, Miflris French-hood ! 20 
turd i'your teeth ; and turd i'your French-hoods teeth, too, 
to doe you feruice, doe you fee ? mufl you quote your 
Adam to me ! you thinke, you are Madam Regent flill, 
Miflris Ouer-doo ; when I am in place ? no fuch matter, I 
affure you, your raigne is out, when I am in, Dame. 25 

Over. I am content to be in abeyance, Sir, and be 
gouern'd by you ; fo fhould hee too, if he did well ; but 
'twill be expe6led, you fhould alfo gouerne your paffions. 



24 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Was. Will't fo forfooth ? good Lord ! how fliarpe you 
are ! with being at Beflem yeflerday ? VVhetJlon has fet an 
edge vpon you, has hee ? 

Over. Nay, if you know not what belongs to your 
5 dignity : I doe, yet, to mine. 

Was. Very well, then. 

CoK. Is this the Licence, Numpes ? for Loues fake, let 
me fee't. I neuer faw a Licence. 

Was. Did you not fo ? why, you fhall not fee't, then, 
lo CoK. An' you loue mee, good JVumpes. 

Was. Sir, I loue you, and yet I do not loue you, i* 
thefe fooleries, fet your heart at refl ; there's nothing in't, 
but hard words : and what would you fee't for ? 

CoK. I would fee the length and the breadth on't, 
15 that's all ; and I will fee't now, fo I will. 

Was. You fha'not fee it, heere. 

CoK. Then I'll fee't at home, and I'll looke vpo'the cafe 
heere. 

Was. Why, doefo, a man mufl giue way to him a little 
[11] in trifles : Gentlemen. Thefe are errors, difeafes of youth : 
which he will mend, when he comes to iudgement, and 
knowledge of matters. I pray you conceiue fo, and I 
thanke you. And I pray you pardon him, and I thanke 
you againe. 
25 QvAR. Well, this dry-nurfe, I fay flill, is a delicate man. 

WiN-w. And I, am, for the Coffet, his charge ! Did 
you euer fee a fellowes face more accufe him for an Affe ? 

QvAR. Accufe him ? it confeffes him one without accuf- 
ing. What pitty 'tis yonder wench fhould marry fuch a 
30 Cokes ? 

WiN-w. 'Tis true. 

QvAR, Shee feemes to be difcreete, and as fober as fhee 
is handfome. 

WiN-w. I, and if you marke her, what a reflrain'd 
35 fcorne fhe cafts vpon all his behauiour, and fpeeches ? 

CoK. Well, Nicmpes, I am now for another piece of 
bufineffe more, the Fayre, Nu7npes, and then — 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 25 

Was. Bleffe me ! deliuer me, helpe, hold mee ! the 
Fayre ! 

CoK. Nay, neuer fidge vp and downe, Niunpes^ and 
vexe it felfe. I am refolute Barthobnew^ in this ; Il'e 
make no fuite on't to you ; 'twas all the end of my iour- 5 
ney, indeed, to fhew Miflris Grace my Fayre: I call't my 
Fayre, because of Barfholmew. you know my name is 
Bartholmew, and Barthobneiv Fayre. 

loH. That was mine afore. Gentlemen : this morning. 
I had that i'faith, vpon his Licence, beleeue me, there he 10 
comes, after me. 

QvAR. Come, lohn, this ambitious wit of yours, (I am 
afraid) will doe you no good i'the end. 

loH. No ? why Sir ? 

QvAR. You grow fo infolent with it, and ouerdoing, 15 
lohn : that if you looke not to it, and tie it vp, it will 
bring you to fome obfcure place in time, and there 'twill 
leaue you. 

WiN-w. Doe not trull it too much, lohn, be more 
fparing, and vfe it, but now and then ; a wit is a danger- 20 
ous thing, in this age ; doe not ouer buy it. 

loH. Thinke you fo. Gentlemen ? I'll take heed on't, 
hereafter. 

Win. Yes, doe lohn. 

CoK. A prety little foule, this fame Miflris Little-wit ! 25 
would I might marry her. 

Gra. So would I, or any body elfe, fo I might fcape 
you, 

CoK. Nicrnps, I will fee it, Nti?npes, 'tis decreed : neuer 
be melancholy for the matter. 30 

Was. Why, fee it. Sir, fee it, doe fee it ! who hinders 
you ? why doe you not goe fee it ? 'Slid fee it. 

CoK. The Fayre, Numps, the Fayre. 

Was. Would the Fayre and all the Drums, and Rattles 
in't, were i'your belly for mee : they are already i'your 35 
braine : he that had the meanes to trauell you head, now, 
36 your head i6g2, lyib, IV, G 



26 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

fhould meet finer fights then any are i'the Fayre ; and 
[6] make a finer voyage on't ; to fee it all hung with cockle- 
fhels, pebbles, fine wheat-flrawes, and here and there a 
chicken's feather, and a cob-web. 
5 QvAR. Goodfaith, hee lookes, me thinkes an' you 
marke him, like one that were made to catch flies, with 
his Sir Crajiion-leg^s. 

WiN-w. And his Nmnpes, to flap 'hem away. 
Was. God, bew'you, Sir, there's your Bee in a box, and 
lo much good doo't, you. 

CoK. Why, your friend, and Bartholmew ; an' you be 
fo contumacious. 

QvAR, What meane you, Ntunpest 
Was. I'll not be guilty, I, Gentlemen. 
15 Over. You will not let him goe. Brother, and loofe 
him ? 

CoK. Who can hold that will away ? I had rather 
loofe him then the Fayre, I wuffe. 

Was. You doe not know the inconuenience, Gentlemen, 
20 you perfwade to: nor what trouble I haue with him in 
thefe humours. If he goe to the Fayre, he will buy of 
euery thing, to a Baby there; and houfhold-fluffe for that 
too. If a legge or an arme on him did not grow on, hee 
would lofe it i'the preffe. Pray heauen I bring him off 
25 with one flone! And then he is fuch a Rauener after 
fruite! you will not beleeue what a coyle I had, t'other 
day, to compound a bufineffe betweene a Katerne-'^Q2iX&- 
woman, and him, about fnatching! 'tis intolerable. Gen- 
tlemen. 
30 WiN-w. O! but you mufl. not leaue him, now, to thefe 
hazards, Nmnpes. 

Was. Nay, hee knowes too well, I will not leaue him, 

and that makes him prefume: well. Sir, will you goe now? 

if you haue fuch an itch i'your feete, to foote it to the 

35 Fayre, why doe you Hop, am I your Tarriars? goe, will 

you goe? Sir, why doe you not goe? 

2 [6] err 07- for [12] 15 loofe] lose i6g2, 1716, W, G 

18 loofe] lose i6g2, 17 16, W, G 35 I [o'] your tarriers G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. '"' 27 

CoK. O Numps\ haue I brought you about? come 
Miftreffe Grace, and Sifter, I am refolute Batt, i'faith, ftill. 

Gra. Truely, I haue no fuch fancy to the Fayre \ nor 
ambition to fee it; there's none goes thither of any quality 
or fafhion. 5 

CoK. O Lord, Sir! you ftiall pardon me, Miftris Grace, 
we are inow of our felues to make it a fafhion : and for 
qualities, let Numps alone, he'l finde qualities. 

QvAR. What a Rogue in apprehenfion is this! to vnder- 
ftand her language no better. 10 

WlN-w. I, and offer to marry to her ? well, I will 
leaue the chafe of my widdow, for to day, and dire6lly to 
the Fayre. Thefe flies cannot, this hot feafon, but engen- 
der vs excellent creeping fport. 

QvAR. A man that has but a fpoone full of braine, 15 
would think fo. Farewell, lohn. 

loH. Win, you fee, 'tis in fafhion, to goe to the Fayre, 
Win: we muft to the Fayre too, you, and I, Win. I haue 
an affaire i'the Fayre, Win, a Puppet-play of mine owne 
making, fay nothing, that I writ for the motion man, which [3] 
you muft fee, Win. 

Win. I would I might John, but my mother will neuer 
confent to fuch 2i prophane motio7i: fhe will call it. 

loH. Tut, we'll haue a deuice, a dainty one; (Now, 
Wit, helpe at a pinch, good Wit come, come, good Wit, 25 
and't be thy will.) I haue it. Win, I haue it 'ifaith, and 
'tis a fine one. Win, long to eate of a Pigge, fweet Witi^ 
i'the Fayre; doe you fee? i'the heart o'the Fayre; not at 
Pye-Corfier. Your mother will doe any thing, JVin, to fat- 
isfie your longing, you know, pray thee long, prefently, 30 
and be ficke o'the fudden, good Win. I'll goe in and tell 
her, cut thy lace i'the meane time, and play the Hypocrite, 
fweet Win. 

Win. No, FU not make me vnready for it. I can be 
Hypocrite enough, though I were neuer fo ftraight lac'd. 35 

II to marry her 77/6, W, G 20 \^ error for \\'i\ 



28 "' Bartholmevv Fayre, 

lOH. You fay true, you haue bin bred i'the family, and 
brought vp to 't. Our mother is a mofl ele6l Hypocrite, and 
has maintain'd us all this feuen yeere with it, like Gentle- 
folkes. 

Win. I, Let her alone, lohn, fhe is not a wife wilfull 
widdow for nothing, nor a fan6lified fifler for a fong. 
And let me alone too, I ha'fomewhat o'the mother in me, 
you fhall fee, fetch her, fetch her, ah, ah. 



Act. I. Scene. VI. 

PVRECRAFT. VVlN. lOHN. BvSY. 

Salomon. 

"^TOw, the blaze of the beauteous difcipline, fright away 
lo this euill from our houfe! how now Win-the- fight, 

Child: how do you ? Sweet child, fpeake to me. 
Win. Yes, forfooth. 

PvR. Looke vp, fweet Win-the- fight, and fuffer not the 

enemy to enter you at this doore, remember that your 

15 education has bin with the purell, what polluted one was 

it, that nam'd firfL the vncleane beafl, Pigge, to you, Child ? 

Win. (Vh, vh.) 

lOH. Not I, o'my fmcerity, mother: fhe long'd aboue 
three houres, ere fhe would let me know it; who was it 
20 Win ? 

Win. a prophane blacke thing with a beard, lohfi. 

PvR. O ! refill it, Win- the -fight, it is the Tempter, the 

wicked Tempter, you may know it by the fiefhly motion of 

Pig, be flrong againfl it, and it's foule temptations, in 

25 thefe affaults, whereby it broacheth flefli and blood, as it 

were, on the weaker fide, and pray againfl it's carnall 

prouocations, good child, fweet child, pray. 

[14] loH. Good mother, I pray you ; that fhe may eate fome 

Pigge, and her belly full, too; and doe not you cafl away 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 29 

your owne child, and perhaps one of mine, with your tale 
of the Tempter: how doe you, JVin ? Are you not ficke ? 

Win. Yes, a great deale, lo/i^i, (vh, vh.) 

PvR. What fhall we doe ? call our zealous brother Bu/y 
hither, for his faithfull fortification in this charge of the 5 
aduerfary; child, my deare childe, you fhall eate Pigge, 
be comforted, my fweet child. 

Win. I, but i'the Fayre, mother. 

PvR. I meane i'the Fayre, if it can be any way made, 
or found lawfuU; where is our brother jS'/^/)^ ? Will hee 10 
not come ? looke vp, child. 

loH. Prefently, mother, as foone as he has cleanf'd his 
beard. I found him, fafl by the teeth, i'the cold Turkey- 
pye, i'the cupbord, with a great white loafe on his left 
hand, and a glaffe of Malmefey on his right. 15 

PvR. Slander not the Brethren, wicked one. 

loH. Here hee is, now, purified, Mother. 

PvR. O brother Bufy\ your helpe heere to edifie, and 
raife vs vp in a fcruple; my daughter Win-the- fight \s vifited 
with a naturall difeafe of women; call'd, A longing to 20 
eate Pigge. 

loH. I Sir, a Barthohnew-Tpi^^Q: and in the Fayre. 

PvR. And I would be fatisfied from you, Religioufly- 
wife, whether a widdow of the fan6lified affembly, or a 
widdowes daughter, may commit the a6l, without offence 25 
to the weaker fiflers. 

Bvs. Verily, for the difeafe of longing, it is a difeafe, 
a carnall difeafe, or appetite, incident to women: and as 
it is carnall, and incident, it is naturall, very naturall: 
Now Pigge, it is a meat, and a meat that is nourifhing, 30 
and may be long'd for, and fo confequently eaten ; it may 
be eaten ; very exceeding well eaten : but in the Fayre, 
and as a Bartholmew-^\^, it cannot be eaten, for the very 
calling it a Bartholmew-'^\^^e, and to eat it fo, is a fpice of 
Idolatry, and you make the Fayre, no better then one of 35 
the high Places. This I take it, is the flate of the queflion. 
A high place. 

2 how do you do, Win W, G 



3° Bartholmevv Fayre. 

loH. I, but in flate of neceffity: Place fhould giue 
' place, M'^ Bufy^ (I have a conceit left, yet.) 

PvR. Good Brother, Zeale-of-the-land^ thinke to make 
it as lawfull as you can. 
5 loH. Yes Sir, and as foone as you can : for it mufl be 
Sir; you fee the danger my little wife is in. Sir. 

PvR. Truely, I doe loue my child dearely, and I would 
not haue her mifcarry, or hazard her firfl fruites, if it might 
be otherwife. 
lo Bvs. Surely, it may be otherwife, but it is fubie6l, to 
confLru6lion, fubie6l, and hath a face of offence, with the 
[15] weake, a great face, a foule face, but that face may haue 
a vaile put ouer it, and be ftiaddowed, as it were, it may be 
eaten, and in the Fayre, I take it, in a Booth, the tents of 
15 the wicked: the place is not much, not very much, we 
may be religious in midfl of the prophane, fo it be eaten 
with a reformed mouth, with fobriety, and humbleneffe; 
not gorg'd in with gluttony, or greedineffe; there's the 
feare: for, fhould fhe goe there, as taking pride in the 
20 place, or delight in the vncleane dreffing, to feed the van- 
ity of the eye, or the lufl of the palat, it were not well, 
it were not fit, it were abominable, and not good. 

loH. Nay, I knew that afore, and told her on't, but 
courage, Win, we'll be humble enough; we'll feeke out 
25 the homeliefl Booth i'the Fayre, that's certaine, rather 
then faile, wee'll eate it o'the ground. 

PvR. I, and I'll goe with you my felfe, Win-the- fight , 
and my brother, Zeale-of-the-land, fhall goe with vs too, for 
our better confolation. 
30 Win. Vh, vh. 

lOH. I, and Salomon too, Win, (the more the merrier) 
Win, we'll leaue Rabhy Bufy in a Booth. Salomon, my 
cloake. 

Sal. Here, Sir. 
35 Bvs. In the way of comfort to the weake, I will goe, 
and eat. I will eate exceedingly, and prophefie; there 

13 it were,] it were ; iyi6, W, G 16 in midfl] in the midst W, G 

21 or the lufl] or lust iyi6, IV, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 31 

may be a good vfe made of it, too, now I thinke on't: by 
the publike eating of Swines flefh, to profeffe our hate, and 
loathing of ludaifme, whereof the brethren fland taxed. 
I will therefore eate, yea, I will eate exceedingly. 

loH. Good, i'faith, I will eate heartily too, because I 
will be no leiv^ I could neuer away with that ftiffenecked 
generation: and truely, I hope my little one will be like 
me, that cries for Pigge fo, i'the mothers belly. 

Bvs. Very likely, exceeding likely, very exceeding 
likely. 



Act. II. Scene. I. 

IVSTICE OVERDOO. 



10 



[16] 



WEU, in luflice name, and the Kings; and for 
the common-wealth ! defie all the world, Adam 
Ouerdoo, for a difguife, and all Jlor-y\ for thou 
hafl fitted thy felfe, I fweare; faine would I 
meet the Zincetis now, that Eagles eye, that peircing ^/- le 
daurian ferpent (as my Quint. Horace cal's him) that could 
difcouer a luflice of Peace, (and lately of the Quorum) 
vnder this couering. They may haue feene many a foole 
in the habite of a luflice; but neuer till now, a luflice in 
the habit of a foole. Thus mufl we doe, though, that wake 20 
for the publike good : and thus hath the wife Magiflrate 
done in all ages. There is a doing of right out of wrong, 
if the way be fovind. Neuer fhall I enough commend a 
worthy worfhipfull man, fometime a capitall member of 
this City, for his high wifdome, in this point, who would 2^ 
take you, now the habit of a Porter; now of a Carman; 
now of the Dog-killer, in this moneth oiAuguJi\ and in the 
winter, of a Seller of tinder-boxes; and what would hee 
doe in all thefe fhapes ? mary goe you into euery Alehoufe, 

G makes but one scene of Act II. 



32 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

and down into euery Celler; meafure the length of pud- 
dings, take the gage of blacke pots, and Cannes, I, and 
cuflards with a flicke; and their circumference, with a 
thrid; weigh the loaues of bread on his middle-finger; 
5 then would he fend for 'hem, home; giue the puddings to 
the poore, the bread to the hungry, the cuflards to his 
children; breake the pots, and burne the Cannes, himfelfe; 
hee Would not trufl his corrupt officers ; he would do't him- 
felfe. would all men in authority would follow this wor- 

lo thy prefident! For (alas) as we are publike perfons, what 

doe we know ? nay, what can wee know ? wee heare with 

other mens eares; we fee with other mens eyes? a foolifh 

[17] Conllable, or a fleepy Watchman, is all our information, 

he llanders a Gentleman, by the vertue of his place, (as he 

15 calls it) and wee by the vice of ours, muft beleeue him. 
As a while agone, they made mee, yea me, to miflake an 
honefl zealous Purfiuant, for a Seminary : and a proper 
yong Batcheler of Muficke, for a Bawd. This wee are 
fubie6l to, that Hue in high place, all our intelligence is 

20 idle, and mofl of our intelligencers, knaues: and by your 
leaue, our felues, thought little better, if not errant fooles, 
for beleeuing 'hem. I Adam Ouerdoo, am refolu'd there- 
fore, to fpare fpy-money hereafter, and make mine owne 
difcoueries. Many are the yeerely enormities of this Fayre, 

25 in whofe courts of Pye-poiildres I haue had the honour 
during the three dayes fometimes to fit as fudge. But this 
is the fpecial day for dete6lion of thofe forefaid enormi- 
ties. Here is my blacke booke, for the purpofe; this the 
cloud that hides me: vnder this couert I fhall fee, and not 

30 be feene. On lunius Brutus. And as I began, fo Fll end: 
in luflice name, and the Kings ; and for the Common- wealth. 

10 prefident] precedent W, G 12 eyes?] eyes. j6g2, 17 16, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 33 



Act. II. Scene. II. 

Leatherhead. Trash. Ivstice. Vrsla. ' 
moone-calfe. nlgh^^ingale. 
Coftermonger. Pajjfengers. 

^TpHe Fayre's peftelence dead, mee thinkes; people come 
not abroad, to day, what euer the matter is. Doe you 
heare. Sifter TraJ/i, Lady o'the Basket ? fit farther with 
your ginger -bread- progeny there, and hinder not the 
profpe6l of my fhop, or I'll ha'it proclaim'd i'the Fayre^ 5 
what fluffe they are made on. 

Tra. Why, what fluffe are they made on. Brother 
Leatherhead'i nothing but what's wholefome, I affure you. 

Lea. Yes, flale bread, rotten egges, mufly ginger, and 
dead honey, you know. 10 

Ivs. I ! haue I met with enormity, fo foone ? 

Lea. I fhall marre your market, old lone. 

Tra. Marre my market, thou too-proud Pedler? do 
thy worfl ; I defie thee, I, and thy liable of hobby-horfes. 
I pay for my ground, as well as thou dofl, and thovi 15 
wrong'fl mee for all thou art parcell-poet, and an Inginer. 
I'll finde a friend fhall right me, and make a ballad of thee, 
and thy cattell all ouer. Are you puft vp with the pride 
of your w^ares ? your Arfedine ? 

Lea. Goe to, old lone, I'll talke with you anone; and 20 
take you downe too, afore lustice Ouerdoo, he is the man [18] 
mufl charme you. He ha'you i'the Piepouldres. 

Tra. Charme me? I'll meet thee face to face, afore 
his worfhip, when thou dar'fl: and though I be a little' 
crooked o'my body, I'll be found as vpright in my deal- 25 
ing, as any woman in Smithfield, I, charme me ? 

Ivs. I am glad, to heare, my name is their terror, yet, 
this is doing of luflice. 



34 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Lea. What doe you lacke ? what is't you buy ? what 
do you lacke ? Rattles, Drums, Halberts, Horfes, Babies 
o'the bea ? Fiddles o'th fineft ? lEnter Cojl. 

Cos. Buy any peares, peares, fine, very fine peares. 
5 Tra. Buy any ginger-bread, guilt ginger-bread ! 
Nig. Hey, now the Fayre s a filling \ 
O, for a Tune to Jlartle 
The Birds o'the Booths here billing: 
Yeerely with old Saint Barthle ! 
lo The Drunkards they are wading, 

The Punques, and Chapmen trading ; 
Who Id fee the Fayre without his lading ? Buy any 
ballads; new ballads ? 

Vrs. Fye vpon't : who would weare out their youth, 
15 and prime thus, in roafling of pigges, that had any cooler 
vocation ? Hell's a kind of cold cellar to't, a very fine 
vault, o'my conscience ! what Moone-calfe. 
Moo. Heere. Miflreffe. 

Nig. How now Vrfla ? in a heate, in a heat ? 
20 Vrs. My chayre, you falfe faucet you; and my morn- 
ings draught, quickly, a botle of Ale, to quench mee, 
Rafcall. I am all fire and fat, Nightingale, I fhall e'en 
melt away to the firfL woman, a ribbe againe, I am afraid. 
I doe water the ground in knots, as I goe, like a great 
25 Garden-pot, you may follow me by the S. S.^- I make. 

Nig. Alas, good Vrs ; was Zekiel heere this morning ? 
Vrs. Zekiel 1 what Zekiell 

Nig. Zekiel Fdgeworth, the ciuill cut-purfe, you know 
him well enough; hee that talkes bawdy to you ftill: I 
30 call him my Secretary. 

Vrs. He promis'd to be heere this morning. I re- 
member. 

Nig. When he comes, bid him flay: I'll be backe 

againe prefently. 

35 Vrs. Befl take your mornings dew in your belly. 

Nightingale, [Moon-ealfe brings in the CAaire.] come. Sir, fet 

25 S. S.S-] S. S. i6g2, 17/6, JV, G 35 morning Dew i6g2, 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 35 

it heere, did not I bid you fliould get this chayre let out 
o'the fides, for me, that my hips might play ? you'll neuer 
thinke of any thing, till your dame be rumpgall'd ; 'tis 
well, Changeling : becaufe it can take in your Graffe-hop- 
pers thighes, you care for no more. Now, you looke as 5 
you had been i'the corner o'the Booth, fleaing your breech, [19] 
with a candles end, and fet fire o'the Fayre. Fill, State : 
fill. 

Ivs. This Pig-woman doe I know, and I will put her 
in, for my fecond enormity, fhee hath beene before mee, 10 
Punke^ Pinnace and Bawd, any time thefe two and twenty 
yeeres, vpon record i'the Pie-poudres. 

Vrs. Fill againe, you vnlucky vermine. 

Moo. 'Pray you be not angry, Miflreffe, I'll ha'it 
widen'd anone. 15 

Vrs. No, no, I fliall e'en dwindle away to't, ere the 
Fayre be done, you thinke, now you ha'heated me? A 
poore vex'd thing I am, I feele my felfe dropping already, 
as fail as I can: two llone a fewet aday is my proportion: 
I can but hold life & foule together, with this (heere's to 20 
you. Nightingale) and a whiffe of tobacco, at mofl, Where's 
my pipe now ? not fill'd ? thou errant Incubee. 

Nig. Nay, Vrfla, thou'lt gall betweene the tongue and 
the teeth, with fretting, now. 

Vrs. Hoav can I hope, that euer hee'll difcharge his 25 
place of trufl, Tapfler, a man of reckoning vnder me, that 
remembers nothing I fay to him ? but looke too't, firrah, 
you were befl, three pence a pipe full, I will ha'made, of 
all my whole halfe pound of tabacco, and a quarter of a 
pound of Coltsfoot, mixt with it too, to itch it out. I that 30 
haue dealt fo long in the fire, will not be to feek in fmoak, 
now. Then 6. and 20. fliillings a barrell I will aduance o' 
my Beere; and fifty fhillings a hundred o'my bottle-ale, I 
ha'told you the waies how to raife it. Froth your cannes 
well i'the filling, at length Rogue, and iogge your bottles 35 

I this chayre] a chair W, G 28 befl;,] best. W, G 

30 itch] each ibg2, iyi6, W: [eke] G 



36 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

o'the buttocke, Sirrah, then skinke out the firfl glaffe, 
euer, and drinke with all companies, though you be fure 
to be drunke; you'll mif- reckon the better, and be leffe 
afham'd on't. But your true tricke, Rafcall, mull be, to 
5 be euer bufie, and mif-take away the bottles and cannes, 
in had, before they be halfe drunke off, and neuer heare 
any body call, (if they fhould chance to marke you) till 
you ha'brought frefli, and be able to forfweare 'hem. 
Giue me a drinke of Ale. 
10 Ivs. This is the very womhe, and bedde of enormitie! 
groffe, as her felfe! this mufl all downe for enormity, all, 
euery whit on't. [One knocks. 

Vrs. Looke, who's there, Sirrah ? fiue fhillings a Pigge 
is my price, at lead; if it be a fow-pig, fix pence more: if 
15 fhe be a great bellied wife, and long for't, fix pence more 
for that. 

Ivs. O Tempora ! O mores ! I would not ha'lofl my dif- 

couery of this one grieuance, for my place, and worfhip o' 

the Bench., how is the poore fubie6l abus'd, here! well, I 

20 will fall in with her, and with her Moone-calfe, and winne 

out wonders of enormity. By thy leaue, goodly w^oman, 

and the fatneffc of the Fayre : oyly as the Kings conflables 

Lampe, and fliining as his Shooing-horne! hath thy Ale 

vertue, or thy Beere flrength ? that the tongue of man may 

[20] be tickled? and his palat pleas'd in the morning? let thy 

pretty Nephew here, goe fearch and fee. 

Vrs. What new Roarer is this ? 

Moo. O Lord! doe you not know him, Miflris, 'tis mad 
Arthur of Bradley., that makes the Orations. Braue Mafler, 
30 old Arthur of Bradley., how doe you ? welcome to the Fayre., 
when fhall wee heare you againe, to handle your matters ? 
with your backe againe a Booth, ha ? I ha'bin one o'your 
little difciples, i'my dayes! 

Ivs. Let me drinke, boy, with my loue, thy Aunt, here; 
25 that I may be eloquent: but of thy befl, left it be bitter in' 
my mouth, and my words fall foule on the Fayre. 

Vrs. Why dofl thou not fetch him drinke ? and offer 
him to fit ? 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 37 

Moo. Is't Ale, or Beere ? Mafler Arthur ? 

Ivs. Thy bed, pretty ftripling, thy bed; the fame thy 
Doue drinketh, and thou drawefl on holy dales. 

Vrs. Bring him a fixe penny bottle of Ale; they fay, a 
fooles handfell is lucky. 5 

Ivs. Bring both, child. Ale for Arthur, and Beere for 
Bradley. Ale for thine Aunt, boy. My difguife takes to 
the very wifh, and reach of it. I fliall by the benefit of this, 
difcouer enough, and more: and yet get off with the repu- 
tation of what I would be. A certaine midling thing, 10 
betweene a foole and a madman. 



Act. II. Scene III. 
Knockhvm. \to them. 

T 7"\ rHat! my little leane Vrfla ! my fhee-Beare! art 
thou aliue yet ? with thy litter of pigges, to 
grunt out another Bartholmeiv Fayrel ha! 

Vrs. Yes, and to amble afoote, when the Fayre is done, 15 
to heare you groane out of a cart, vp the heauy hill. 

Kno. Of Holbourne, Vrfla, meanfL thou fo ? for what ? 
for what, pretty Vrf^. 

Vrs. For cutting halfe-penny purfes: or flealing little 
penny dogges, out o'the Fayre. 20 

Kno. O ! good words, good words, Vrf. 

Ivs. Another fpeciall enormitie. A cutpurfe of the 
fword! the boote, and the feather! thofe are his marks. 

Vrs. You are one of thofe horfleaches, that gaue out I 
was dead, in Turne-buU flreete, of a furfet of botle ale, and 25 
tripes ? 

Kno. No, 'twas better meat Vrs: cowes vdders, cowes 
vdders! 

Vrs. Well, I fliall be meet with your mumbling mouth [21] 
one day. 30 



38 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Kno. What ? thou'lt poyfon mee with a neuft in a bottle 

of Ale, will't thou ? or a fpider in a tobacco-pipe, Frs ? 

Come, there's no malice in thefe fat folkes, I neuer feare 

thee, and I can fcape thy leane Moonecalfe heere. Let's 

5 drinke it out, good Vrs, and no vapours! 

Ivs. Dofl thou heare, boy ? (there's for thy Ale, and 
the remnant for thee) fpeake in thy faith of a faucet, now; 
is this goodly perfon before vs here, this vapours, a knight 
of the knife ? 
10 Moo. What meane you by that, Mafler Arthur ? 

Ivs. I meane a child of the home-thumb, a babe of 
booty, boy ; a cutpurfe. 

Moo. O Lord, Sir ! far from it. This is Mafter Dan. 
Kiiockhum: lordane the Ranger of Turnebull. He is a horfe- 
15 courfer. Sir. 

Ivs. Thy dainty dame, though, call'd him cutpurfe. 

Moo. Like enough. Sir, fhe'll doe forty fuch things in 
an houre (an you liflen to her) for her recreation, if the 
toy take her i'the greafie kerchiefe: it makes her fat you 
20 fee. Shee battens with it. 

Ivs. Here might I ha'beene deceiu'd, now: and ha' 
put a fooles blot vpon my felfe, if I had not play'd an after 

game o'difcretion. [ Vrjla comes in againe dropping. 

Kno. Alas poore Vrs.^ this's an ill feafon for thee. 
25 Vrs. Hang your felfe, Hacney-man. 

Kno. How ? how ? Vrs, vapours ! motion breede 
vapours ? 

Vrs. Vapours ? Neuer tuske, nor twirle your dibble, 
good lordane.^ I know what you'll take to a very drop. 
30 Though you be Captaine o'the Roarers, and fight well at 
the cafe of pif-pots, you fhall not fright me with your 
Lyon-chap, Sir, nor your tuskes, you angry ? you are hun- 
gry: come, a pigs head will flop your mouth, and flay 
your flomacke, at all times. 

13 Dan. Knockhum Jordan : W: Daniel Knockem Jordan : G 
21 might I ha'beene] I might have been G 
32 tuskes,] Tusks ; j6g2, 1716, JV, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 39 

Kno. Thou art fuch another mad merry Vrs flill ! Troth 
I doe make confcience of vexing thee, now i'the dog- 
daies, this hot weather, for feare of foundring thee i'the 
bodie; and melting down a Filler oi the Fayre. Pray thee 
take thy chayre againe, and keepe flate; and let's haue a 5 
frefli bottle of Ale, and a pipe of tabacco; and no vapours, 
rie ha'this belly o'thine taken vp, and thy graffe fcour'd, 
wench; looke! heere's Ezechiel Edgworth; a fine boy of his 
inches, as any is i'the Fayre\ has flill money in his purfe, 
and will pay all, with a kind heart; and good vapours. 10 



Act. II. Scene. IIII. [22] 

To them Edgvvorth. Nightingale. 
Corne-c2itter. Tmder-box-man. PaJJengers. 

THat I will, indeede, willingly, Mailer Ktwckhum^ fetch 
fome Ale, and Tabacco. 

Lea. What doe you lacke, Gentlemen? Maid: 
fee a fine hobby horfe for your young Mailer: cofl you 
but a token a weeke his prouander. 15 

Cor. Ha'you any cornes 'iyour feete, and toes ? 
Tin. Buy a Moufe-trap, a Moufe-trap, or a Tormentor 
for a Flea. 

Tra. Buy fome Ginger-bread. 

Nig. Ballads, Ballads! fine new ballads: 20 

Heare for your lone, and buy for your money. 
A delicate ballad o'the Ferret and the Coney. 
A preferuatiue again the Punques euill. 
Another of Goofe-greene-ftarch, and the Deuill. 
A dozen of diuine points, and the Godly garters. 25 

The Fairing of good councell, of an ell and three 

quarters. What is' t you buy ? 
The Wind-mill blowne downe by the witches fart ! 
Or Saint George, that O ! did breake the Dragons heart ! 



4° Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Edg. Mailer Nightingale, come hither, leaue your mart 
a little. 

Nig. O my Secretary! what fayes my Secretarie? 
Ivs. Childe o'the bottles, what's he ? what he ? 
5 Moo. A ciuill young Gentleman, Mafler Arthur^ that 
keepes company with the Roarers, and disburfes all. Hill. 
He has euer money in his purfe; He payes for them; and 
they roare for him: one do's good offices for another. 
They call him the Secretary, but he ferues no body. A 
lo great friend of the Ballad-mans they are neuer afunder. 

Ivs. What pitty 'tis, fo ciuill a young man fhould haunt 
this debaucht company ? here's the bane of the youth of 
our time apparant. A proper penman, I fee't in his coun- 
tenance, he has a good Clerks looke with him, and I war- 
15 rant him a quicke hand. 

Moo. A very quicke hand. Sir. 

Edg. All the purfes, and purchafe, I giue you to day 

[23] by conueyance, bring hither to Vrflas prefently. Heere we 

will meet at night in her lodge, and fhare. Looke you 

20 choofe good places, for your flanding i'the Fayre, when 

you fmg Nightingale. [ This they whi/pe?-, thai Ouerdoo heares it not, 

Vrs. I, neere the fullefl paffages; and fhift 'hem often. 

Edg. And i'your fmging, you muft. vfe your hawks eye 

nimbly, and flye the purfe to a marke, flill, where 'tis 

25 worne, and o'which fide; that you may gi'me the figne 

with your beake, or hang your head that way i'the tune. 

Vrs. Enough, talke no more on't: your friendfhip 

(Mailers) is not now to beginne. Drinke your draught of 

Indenture, your fup of Couenant, and away, the Fayre fils 

30 apace, company begins to come in, and I ha'ne'er a Pigge 

ready, yet. 

Kno. Well faid! fill the cups, and light the tabacco: 
let's giue fire i'th'works, and noble vapours. 

Edg. And fhall we ha'fmockes Vrjla, and good whim- 
35 fies, ha ? 

4 what he] what's he i6g2, 1716, IV, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 41 

Vrs. Come, you are i'your bawdy vaine ! the beft the 
Fayre will afford, Zckiel, if Bawd Whit keepe his word; 
how doe the Pigges, Moone-calfe ? 

Moo. Very paffionate, Miflreffe, on on 'hem has wept 
out an eye. Mafler Arthur o Bradley is melancholy, heere, 5 
nobody talkes to him. Will you any tabacco Mafler 
Arthur ? 

Ivs. No, boy, let my meditations alone. 

Moo. He's fludying for an Oration, now. 

Ivs. If I can, with this dales trauell, and all my policy, 10 
but refcue this youth, here out of the hands of the lewd 
man, and the flrange woman. I will fit downe at night, 
and fay with my friend Ouid, Iai7iq ; opus exegi^ quod nee 
louis ira^ nee ignis, &'c. ' 

Kno. Here Zekiel : here's a health to Frjla, and a kind 15 
vapour, thou haft money i'thy purfe ftill ; and ftore ! how 
doft thou come by it ? Pray thee vapour thy friends fome 
in a courteous vapour. 

Edg. Halfe I haue, Mafter Dan. Knockhum, is alwaies 
at your feruice, 20 

Ivs. Ha, fweete nature! what Gofliawke would prey 
vpon fuch a Lambe ? 

. Kno. Let's fee, what 'tis, Zekiel ! count it, come, fill 
him to pledge mee. 



Act. II. Scene. V. [24] 

VViN-wiFE. QvARLOvs. { to them. 

'\ 7"\ T^Ee are heere before 'hem, me thinkes. 25 

OvAR. All the better, we fhall fee 'hem come 
in now. 

Lea. What doe you lacke. Gentlemen, what is't you 
lacke ? a fine Horfe ? a Lyon ? a Bull ? a Beare ? a Dog, 

4 on' on 'em i6g2 : one on 'em lyid, W : one of 'em G 
10 travail G 13 lamq ; opus\ Jamque opus ibgs, 1716, IV, G 



42 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

or a Cat ? an excellent fine Bartholmew-hird ? or an Inflru- 
ment ? what is't you lacke ? 

QvAR. S'lid! heere's Orpheus among the beafls, with 
his Fiddle, and all! 
5 Tra. Will you buy any comfortable bread, Gentlemen ? 
QvAR. And Ceres felling her daughters picture, in 
Ginger-worke ! 

Win. That thefe people fhould be fo ignorant to thinke 
vs chapmen for 'hem ! doe wee looke as if wee would buy 
lo Ginger-bread ? or Hobby-horfes ? 

QvAR. Why, they know no better ware then they haue, 

nor better cuflomers then come. And our very being 

here makes vs fit to be demanded, as well as others. 

Would Cokes would come ! there were a true cuflomer for 

15 'hem. 

Kno. How much is't? thirty fhillings ? who's yonder! 

JVed Wimvife ? and Tom Quarlous, I thinke ! yes, (gi'me it 

all) (gi'me it all) Mafler Win-wife\ Mafler Quarlous ! will 

you take a pipe of tabacco with vs ? do not difcredit me 

20 now, Zekiel. 

Win. Doe not fee him ! he is the roaring horfe-courfer, 
pray thee let's auoyd him : turne downe this way. 

QvAR. S'lud, rie fee him, and roare with him, too, 
and hee roar'd as loud as Neptune, P^^y thee goe with me. 
25 Win. You may draw me to as likely an inconuenience, 
when you pleafe, as this. 

QvAR. Goe to then, come along, we ha'nothingto doe, 
man, but to fee fights, now. 

Kno. Welcome Mailer Quarlous, and Mailer Winwife \ 
30 will you take any froth, and fmoake with vs ? 

QvAR. Yes, Sir, but you'l pardon vs, if we knew not 
of fo much familiarity betweene vs afore. 
Kno. As what, Sir ? 

QvAR. To be fo lightly inuited to fmoake, and froth. 
35 Kno. a good vapour! will you fit downe. Sir? this 
[25] is old Vrjla's manfion, how like you her bower ? heere you 
may ha'your Punque, and your Pigge in fl.ate. Sir, both 
piping hot. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 43 

QvAR. I had rather ha'my Punque, cold, Sir. 

Ivs. There's for me, Punque! and Pigge! 

Vrs. What Moonecalfe ? you Rogue. \_She calls within. 

Moo. By and by, the bottle is almoll off Miflreffe, 
here Mafter Arthur. 5 

Vrs. rie part you, and your play-fellow there, i'the 
garded coat, an' you funder not the fooner. 

Kno. Mafter Win wife^ you are proud (me thinkes) 
you doe not talke, nor drinke, are you proud ? 

Win. Not of the company I am in, Sir, nor the place, 10 
I affure you. 

Kno. You doe not except at the company ! doe you ? 
are you in vapours. Sir ? 

Moo. Nay, good Mafler Dati : Knockhum, refpe6l my 
Miflris Bower, as you call it; for the honour of our 15 
Booth, none o'your vapours heere. 

\^Ske comes out with a fire-brand. 

Vrs. Why, you thinne leane Polcat you, and they 
haue a minde to be i'their vapours, mufl you hinder 'hem ? 
what did you know Vermine, if they Avould ha'lofL a 
cloake, or fuch a trifle ? mufl you be drawing the ayre of 20 
pacification heere ? while I am tormented, within, i'the 
fire, you Weafell ? 

Moo. Good Miflreffe, 'twas in the behalfe of your 
Booth's credit that I fpoke. 

Vrs, Why ? would my Booth ha'broake, if they had 25 
fal'ne out in't ? Sir? or would their heate ha'fir'd it? in, 
you Rogue, and wipe the pigges, and mend the fire, that 
they fall not, or I'le both bafle and roafl. you, till your eyes 
drop out, like 'hem. (Leaue the bottle behinde you, and 
be curll a while.) 30 

Qvar. Body o'the Fayre\ what's this? mother o'the 
Bawds ? 

Kno. No, fhe's mother o'the Pigs, Sir, mother o'the 
Pigs ! 

Win. Mother o'the Furies, I thinke, by her firebrand, 35 

23 in the behalfe] in behalf G 



44 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

QvAR. Nay, fhee is too fat to be a Fury, fure, fome 
walking Sow of tallow ! 

Win. An infpir'd veffell of Kitchin-fluffe ! 
QvAR. She'll make excellent geere for the Coach- 
5 makers, here in Smithfield, to anoynt wheeles and axell 
trees with. [Ske drinkes this while. 

Vrs. I, I, Gamefters, mocke a plaine plumpe foft wench 
o'the Suburbs, doe, becaufe fhe's iuicy and wholefome : 
you mufl ha'your thinne pinch'd ware, pent vp i'the 
lo compaffe of a dogge-collar, (or 'twill not do) that lookes 
like a long lac'd Conger, fet vpright, and a greene feather, 
like fennell i'the loll on't. 

Kno. Well faid Vrs, my good Vrs ; to 'hem Vrs. 
QvAR. Is fhee your quagmire, Dan : Knockhum ? is this 
15 your Bogge ? 

Nig. We fhall haue a quarrel prefently. 
[26] Kno. How? Bog? Quagmire? foule vapours! 
hum'h ! 

QvAR. Yes, hee that would venture for't, I affure him, 
20 might fmke into her, and be drown'd a weeke, ere any 
friend hee had, could find where he were. 

Win. And then he would be a fort'night weighing vp 
again e. 

QvAR. 'Twere like falling into a whole Shire of butter: 
25 they had need be a teeme of DutcJwien, fhould draw him 
out. 

Kno. Anfwer 'hem, Vrs, where's thy Barthohnew-yj'xX., 
now ? Vrs, thy Barthobnew-w'\t ? 

Vrs. Hang 'hem, rotten, roguy Cheaters, I hope to fee 

30 'hem plagu'd one day (pox'd they are already, I am fure) 

with leane playhoufe poultry, that has the boany rumpe, 

flicking out like the Ace of Spades, or the point of a 

Partizan, that euery rib of 'hem is like the tooth of a Saw : 

aud will fo grate 'hem with their hips, & fhoulders, as 

35 (take 'hem altogether) they were as good lye with a hurdle. 

QvAR. Out vpon her, how fhe drips ! fhe's able to giue 

a man the fweating Sickneffe, with looking on her. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 45 

Vrs. Mary looke off, with a patch o'your face ; and a 
dofen i'your breech, though they be o'fcarlet, Sir. I ha' 
feene as fine outfides, as either o'yours, bring lowfie 
linings to the Brokers, ere now, twice a weeke. 

QvAR. Doe you thinke there may be a fine new Cuck- 5 
ingfloole i'the Fayre, to be purchas'd ? one large inough, 
I meane. I know there is a pond of capacity, for her. 

Vrs. For yonr mother, you Rafcall, out you Rogue, 
you hedge bird, you Pimpe, you pannier-mans ballard, you. 

QvAR. Ha, ha, ha. 10 

Vrs. Doe you fneerc, you dogs-head, you Trcndlc tayle\ 
you looke as you were begotten a'top of a Cart in haruefl- 
time, when the whelp was hot and eager. Go, fnuffe after 
your brothers bitch, M" Commodity, that's the Liuory you 
weare, 'twill be out at the elbows, fhortly. It's time you 15 
went to't, for the to'ther remnant. 

Kno. Peace, Vrs, peace, Vrs, they'll kill the poore 
Whale, and make oyle of her. Pray thee goe in. 

Vrs. rie fee 'hem pox'd firfl, and pil'd, and double 
pil'd. 20 

Win. Let's away, her language growes greafier then 
her Pigs, 

Vrs. Dos't fo, fnotty nofe ? good Lord ! are you 
fniueling ? you were engendred on a fhe-beggar, in a 
barne, when the bald Thrafher, your Sire, was fcarce 25 
warme. 

Win. Pray thee, let's goe. 

QvAR, No, faith : I'le (lay the end of her, now : I 
know fhee cannot lafl long ; I finde by her fi?niles, fhee 
wanes a pace. 30 

Vrs. Do's fhee f o ? I'le fet you gone. Gi'mee my 
Pig-pan hither a little. I'le fcald you hence, and you will 
not goe. 

Kno. Gentlemen, thefe are very flrange vapours ! and 
very idle vapours ! I affure you. x< 

QvAR. You are a very ferious affe, wee affure you. 

4 linings] Linnen lyid : linen W 



46 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

[27] Kno. Humh ! Affe? and ferious? nay, then pardon 
mee m)^ vapour. I haue a foolifh vapour, Gentlemen : 
any man that doe's vapour me, the Affe, Mafler Quarlous — 
OvAR. What then, M.'s^^&x lordatil 
5 Kno. I doe vapour him the lye. 

QvAR. Faith, and to any man that vapours mee the 
lie, I doe vapour that. 

Kno. Nay, then, vapours vpon vapours. 

[Vrfla comes in, with the fcalding-pan. They fight, 
Edg. Nig. 'Ware the pan, the pan, the pan, (hee 
10 comes with the pan, Gentlemen. [Shee falls with ?V.] God 
bleffe the woman. 
Vrs. Oh. 

Era. What's the matter ? 
Ivs. Goodly woman ! 
15 Moo. Miflreffe ! 

Vrs. Curfe of hell, that euer I faw thefe Feinds, oh ! 

I ha'fcalded my leg, my leg, my leg, my leg. I ha'lofl a 

limb in the feruice ! run for fome creame and fallad oyle, 

quickly. Are you vnder-peering, you Baboun ? rip off my 

20 hofe, an' you be men, men, men. 

Moo. Runne you for fome creame, good mother lone. 
rie looke to your basket. 

Lea. Befl fit vp i'your chaire, Vrfla. Help, Gentle- 
men. 
25 Kno. Be of good cheere, Vrs^ thou hafl hindred me 
the currying of a couple of Stallions, here, that abus'd 
the good vdiCQ-Bawd o'Smithfield ; 'twas time for 'hem to 
goe. 

Nig. I faith, when the panne came, they had made you 
30 xunne elfe. (this had beene a fine time for purchafe, if 
you had ventur'd.) 

Edg. Not a whit, thefe fellowes were too fine to carry 
money. 

Kno. Nightingale, get fome helpe to carry her legge 
35 out o'the ayre; take off her fliooes; body o'me, fhe has 

13 Tra. 17 16, W: Trash. G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 47 

the Mallanders, the fcratches, the crowne fcabbe, and the 
quitter bone, i'the tother legge. 

Vrs. Oh! the poxe, why doe you put me in minde o' 
niy leg, thus, to make it prick, and fhoot ? would you ha'me 
i'the Hofpitall, afore my time ? 5 

Kno. Patience, Vrs, take a good heart, 'tis but a blifler, 
as big as a Windgall; I'le take it away with the white of 
an egge, a little honey, and hogs greafe, ha'thy paflernes 
well rol'd, and thou fhall't pafe againe by to morrow. 
I'le tend thy Booth, and looke to thy afifaires, the while: 10 
thou Ihalt fit i'thy chaire, and giue diredlions, and fhine 
Vrfa maior. 



Act. II. Scene. VI. [28] 

IVSTICE. EdGEWORTH. NIGHTIN- 
GALE. Cokes. Waspe. Miftris 
OvERDOO. Grace. 

' I ^Hefe are the fruites of bottle-ale, and tabacco! the 
fome of the one, and the fumes of the other! Stay 
young man, and defpife not the wifedome of thefe few 15 
hayres, that are growne gray in care of thee. 

Edg. Nightingale, flay a little. Indeede I'le heare fome 
o'this! 

CoK. Come, Numps, come, where are you ? welcome 
into the Fayre, Miflris Grace. 20 

Edg. S'light, hee will call company, you fhall fee, and 
put vs into doings prefently. 

Ivs. Third not after that frothy liquor. Ale: for, who 
knowes, when hee openeth the Ropple, what may be in 
the bottle ? hath not a Snaile, a Spider, yea, a Neuft bin 25 
found there? third not after it, youth: thirfl not after it. 

CoK. This is a braue fellow, Numps, let's heare him. 



48 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Was. S 'blood, how braue is he? in a garded coate ? 
you were bell trucke with him, e'en llrip, and trucke pref- 
ently, it will become you, why will you heare him, becaufe 
he is an Affe, and may be a kinnne to the Cokefes ? 
e CoK. O, good Numps\ 

Ivs. Neither doe thou lull after that tawney weede, 
tabacco. 

CoK. Braue words! 

Ivs. Whofe complexion is like the Indians that vents it! 
lo CoK. Are they not braue words, Sifter ? 

Ivs. And who can tell, if, before the gathering, and 

making vp thereof, the Alligarta hath not pifs'd thereon ? 

Was. 'Heart let 'hem be braue words, as braue as they 

will! and they were all the braue words in a Countrey, 

15 how then ? will you away yet ? ha'you inough on him ? 

Miflris Grace, come you away, I pray you, be not you 

acceffary. If you doe lofe your Licence, or fome- 

what elfe, Sir, with liflning to his fables: fay, JVumps, is a 

witch, with all my heart, doe, fay fo. 

20 CoK. Avoyd i'your fattin doublet, Nunips. 

Ivs. The creeping venome of which fubtill ferpent, as 
[29] fome late writers affirme; neither the cutting of the per- 
rillous plant, nor the drying of it, nor the lighting, or 
burning, can any way perffway or, affwage. 
25 CoK. Good, i'faith! is't not Sifter ? 

Ivs. Hence it is, that the lungs of the Tabacconifl are 
rotted, the Liuer fpotted, the braine fmoak'd like the back- 
fide of the Pig-womans Booth, here, and the whole body 
within, blacke, as her Pan, you faw e'en now, without. 
30 CoK. A fine fimilitude, that. Sir! did you fee the panne? 
Edg. Yes, Sir. 

Ivs. Nay, the hole in the nofe heere, of fome tabacco- 

takers, or the third noflrill, (if I may fo call it) which 

makes, that they can vent the tabacco out, like the Ace of 

25 clubs, or rather the Flower-de-lice, is caufed from the 

tabacco, the meere tabacco! when the poore innocent pox, 

4 a kinnne] a-kin i6g2, 1716, W, G 9 Indian's 1716, fV, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 49 

hauing nothing to doe there, is miferably, and mofl vncon- 
fcionably flander'd. 

CoK. Who would ha'mifl this, Sifter ? 

Over. Not any body, but Numps. 

CoK. He do's not vnderftand. 5 

Edg. Nor you feele. \Hee picketh his pur/e. 

CoK. What would you haue, Sifter, of a fellow that 
knowes nothing but a basket-hilt, and an old Fox in't ? 
the beft mufique i'the Fayre, will not moue a logge. 

Edg. In, to V?-JIa, Nightingale, and carry her comfort: 10 
fee it told. This fellow was fent to vs by fortune, for our 
firft fairing. 

Ivs. But what fpeake I of the difeafes of the body, 
children of the Fayre ? 

CoK. That's to vs, Sifter. Braue i'faith! 15 

Ivs. Harke, O, you fonnes and daughters of Smithfield ! 
and heare what mallady it doth the minde: It caufeth 
fwearing, it caufeth fwaggering, it caufeth fnuffling, and 
fnarling, and now and then a hurt. 

OvE. Hehath fomethingof Mafter t)/*!^;'^';?^, meethinkes, 20 
brother. 

CoK. So mee thought, Sifter, very much of my brother 
Ouerdoo: And 'tis, when he fpeakes. 

Ivs. Looke into any Angle o'the towne, (the Streights, 
or the Bermuda's) where the quarrelling leffon is read, and 25 
how doe they entertaine the time, but with bottle-ale, and 
tabacco? The Le6lurer is o'one fide, and his Pupils o'the 
other; But the feconds are ftill bottle-ale, and tabacco, for 
which the Le6lurer reads, and the Nouices pay. Thirty 
pound a weeke in bottle-ale ! forty in tabacco ! and ten 30 
more in Ale againe. Then for a fute to drinke in, fo much, 
and (that being flauer'd) fo much for another fute, and then 
a third fute, and a fourth fute ! and ftill the bottle-ale 
flauereth, and the tabacco ftinketh ! 

Was. Heart of a mad-man ! are you rooted heere ? well 35 
you neuer away? what can any man finde out in this bawl- [30] 
35 well] Will i6g2, 17 16, W, G 



o 



50 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

ing fellow, to grow heere for ? hee is a full' handfull higher, 
fm'he heard him, will you fix heere? and fet vp a Booth? 
Sir? 

Ivs. I will conclude briefely — 
5 Was. Hold your peace, you roaring Rafcall, I'le runne 
my head i'your chaps elfe. You were befl build a Booth, 
and entertaine him, make your Will, and you fay the word, 
and him your heyre ! heart, I neuer knew one taken with 
a mouth of a pecke, afore. By this light, I'le c^rry you 
10 away o'my backe, and you will not come. \^He gets him 

vp on pick-packe. 

CoK. Stay Numpes, Hay, fet mee downe: I ha'lofl my 
purfe, JVuni-ps, O my purfe ! one o'my fine purfes is gone. 

Over. Is't indeed, brother? 

CoK. I, as I am an honefl man, would I were an errant 
i^ Rogue, elfe! a plague of all roguy, damn'd cut-purfes for 
me. 

Was. Bleffe 'hem with all my heart, with all my heart, 
do you fee! Now, as I am no Infidell, that I know of, I 
am glad on't. I I am, (here's my witneffe !) doe you fee. Sir ? 
20 I did not tell you of his fables, I ? no, no, I am a dull malt- 
horfe, I, I know nothing. Are you not iuflly feru'd i'your 
confcience now ? fpeake i'your confcience. Much good 
doe you with all my heart, and his good heart that has it, 
with all my heart againe. 
2c Edg. This fellow is very charitable, would he had a 
purfe too! but, I mufl not be too bold, all at a time, 

CoK. Nay, Numps, it is not my bell purfe. 

Was. Not your befl! death! why fhould it be your 
woril ? why fhould it be any, indeed, at all ? anfwer me to 
20 that, gi'mee a reafon from you, why it fhould be any ? 

CoK. Nor my gold, JVutnps; I ha'that yet, looke heere 
elfe, Sifter. 

Was. Why fo, there's all the feeling he has! 

Over. I pray you, haue a better care of that, brother. 
25 CoK. Nay, fo I will, I warrant you; let him catch this, 
that catch can. I would faine fee him get this, looke you 
heere. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 51 

Was. So, fo, fo, fo, fo, fo, fo, fo! Ver)- good. 

CoK. I would ha'him come againe, now, and but offer 
at it. Sifter, will you take notice of a good left ? I will 
put it iuft where th'otlier was, and if we ha'good lucke, 
you fhall fee a delicate fine trap to catch the cutpurfe, 5 
nibling. 

Edg. Faith, and he'll trye ere you be out o'the Fayre. 

CoK. Come, Miftreffe Grace, pre'thee be not melancholy 
for my mif-chance; forrow wi'not keepe it, Sweetheart. 

Gra. I do not thinke on't, Sir. 10 

Cook. 'Twas but a little fcuruy white money, hang it: 
it may hang the cutpurfe, one day. I ha'gold left to 
gi'thee a fayring, yet, as hard as the world goes: nothing 
angers me, but that no body heere, look'd like a cutpurfe, 
vnleffe 'twere Numps. 15 

Was. How? I? I looke like a cutpurfe? death! your [13] 
Sifter's a cutpurfe! and your mother and father, and all 
your kinne were cutpurfes! And here is a Rogue is the 
baud o'the cutpurfes, whom I will beat to begin with. 

[ Tlwy fpeake all together : and Wafpe beats the Inftice. 
CoK. Ntivips, Numps. 20 

Over. Good M"" Humphrey. 

[Ivs. Hold thy hand, childe of Avrath, and 

heyre of anger, make it not Childermaffe day 

in thy fury, or the feaft of the French Bar- 

t/iolmew. Parent of the of the Maffacre. 25 

Was. You are the Patrico ! are you ? the Patriarch of 

the cutpurfes? you fhare. Sir, they fay, let them fhare this 

with you. Are you i'your hot fit of preaching againe? 

rie coole you. 

Ivs. Murther, murther, murther. ^o 

16 [13] error for [31]. 
25 Parent of the of the] Parent of the ibqz, 17 16, W, G 



52 Bartholmevv Fayre. 



Act. III. Scene. I. 

Whit. Haggise. Bristle. Leather- 
head. Trash. 

"p^Ay, tifh all gone, now! difh tifh, phen tou vilt not be 
■^ phitin call, Mailer Offifher, phat ilh a man te better 
to lifhen out noyfhes for tee, & tou art in an oder 
'orld, being very fhuffifhient noyfhes and gallantfh too, one 
5 o'their brabblefh woud haue fed vfli all difh fortnight, but 
tou art so bvifhy about beggerfli flil, tou hafl no lefhure to 
intend fhentlemen, and't be. 

Hag. Why, I told you, Dauy Brijile. 

Bri. Come, come, you told mee a pudding, Toby Hag- 

lo gife\ A matter of nothing; I am fure it came to nothing! 

you faid, let's goe to Vrfla's, indeede; but then you met the 

[32] man with the monflers, and I could not get you from him. 

An old foole, not leaue feeing yet? 

Hag. Why, who would ha'thought any body would ha' 
15 quarrell'd fo earely? or that the ale o'the Fayre would ha' 
beene vp fo foone. 

Whi. Phy? phat a clocke toefl tou tinke it ifh, man? 
Hag. I cannot tell. 

Whi. Tou art a viflie vatchman, i'te meane teeme. 
20 Hag. Why? Ihould the watch goe by the clocke, or the 
clock by the watch, I pray ? 

Bri. One fhould goe by another, if they did well. 
Whi. Tou art right now ? phen didfl tou euer know, or 
heare of a fhuffifhient vatchman, but he did tell the clocke, 
25 phat bufliineffe foeuer he had? 

Bri. Nay, that's mofl true, a fufficient watchman 
. knowes what aclocke it is. 

Whi. Shleeping, or vaking! afli well as te clocke him- 
fhelfe, or te lack dat fhtrikes him ! 

G makes but one scene of Act III. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 53 

Bri. Let's enquire of Mailer Leatherhead^ or lone Trajh 
heere. Mafler Leatherhead, doe you heare, Mafler Leather- 
head t 

Whi. If it be a Ledderhead, tifh a very tick Ledder- 
head, tat fho mufli noifli vill not peirfli him. 5 

Lea. I haue a little bufmeffe now, good friends doe 
not trouble me. 

Whi. Phat ? becaufe o'ty wrought neet cap, and ty 
pheluet fherkin, Man ? phy ? I haue fheene tee in ty Led- 
der fherkin, ere now, Mafhter o'de hobby-Horfes, as bufliy 10 
and as flately as tou fheem'fl to be. 

Tra. Why, what an' you haue, Captaine Whiti hee has 
his choyce of lerkins, you may fee by that, and his caps 
too, I affure you, when hee pleafes to be either ficke, or 
imploy'd. ig 

Lea. God a mercy lojie^ anfwer for me. 

Whi, Away, be not Iheen i'my company, here be fhen- 
tlemen, and men of vorfhip. 



Act. III. Scene. II. 

QvARLOvs. Whit. Win-wife. Bvsy. Iohn. 

PVRE-CRAFT. WiN. KnOK-HVM. MoON- 
CALFE. VrSLA. 

"\ 7'T 7'Ee had wonderfuU ill lucke, to miffe this prologue 

o'the purfe, but the befl is, we fhall haue fiue 20 
A^s of him ere night: hee'le be fpe6tacle enough! I'le 
anfwer for't. 

Whi. O Creefh! Duke Quarlous, how dofht tou? tou [33] 
doflit not know me, I f eare ? I am te vifhelht man, but 
luflifli Ouerdoo, in all Bartholmevv Fayre, now. Gi'me 25 
tweluepence from tee, I vill help tee to a vife vorth forty 
marks for't, and't be. 

II and as (lately] and stately 17 16, W, G 



54 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

QvAR. Away, Rogue, Pimpe away. 

Whi, And fliee fhall fhew tee as fine cut o'rke fort't in 
her fhmock too, as tou canfht vifhe i'faith; vilt tou haue 
her, vorfliipfull Vln-vife ? I vill helpe tee to her, heere, be 
5 an't be, in te pig-quarter, gi'me ty twelpence from tee, 

WiN-w. Why, there's twelpence, pray thee wilt thou be 
gone. 

Whi, Tou art a vorthy man, and a vorfhipfull man 
ftill. 
lo QvAR. Get you gone, Rafcall. 

Whi. I doe meane it, man. Prinfh Quarlous if tou 
haflit need on me, tou fhalt finde me heere, at Vrjlas, I 
vill fee phat ale, and pvmque ifh i'te pigfhty, for tee, bleffe 
ty good vorfhip. 
IS QvAR. Looke! who comes heere! lohn Little-wit \ 

WiN-w. And his wife, and my widdow, her mother: 
the whole family. 

QvAR. 'Slight, you mufl gi'hem all fairings, now! 

WiN-w. Not I, rie not fee 'hem, 
20 QvAR. They are going a feafling. What Schole-maf- 
ter's that is with 'hem ? 

WiN-w. That's my Riuall, I beleeue, the Baker! 

Bvs. So, walke on in the middle way, fore-right, turne 
neyther to the right hand, nor to the left : let not your 
2if eyes be drawne afide with vanity, nor your eare with 
noyfes. 

QvAR. O, I know him by that ftart! 

Lea. What do you lack? what do you buy, pretty 

Miflris ! a fine Hobby-Horfe, to make your fonne a Tilter ? 

,0 a Drum to make him a Souldier ? a Fiddle, to make him 

a Reueller ? What is't you lack ? Little Dogs for your 

Daughters! or Babies, male, or female? 

Bvs. Look not toward them, harken not: the place is 

Smithfield^ or the field of Smiths, the Groue of Hobbi- 

,1- horfes and trinkets, the wares are the wares of diuels. 

And the whole Fayre is the fhop of Satan ! They are 

5 in te] into 769^, iji6, IF, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 55 

hooks, and baites, very baites, that are hung out on euery 
fide, to catch you, and to hold you as it were, by the gills; 
and by the noflrills, as the Fifher doth: therfore, you 
muft not looke, nor turne toward them — The Heathen 
man could flop his eares with wax, againft the harlot o'the 5 
fea: Doe you the like, with your fingers againll the bells 
of the Beafl. 

WiN-w. What flafhes comes from him! 

QvAR. O, he has thofe of his ouen! a notable hot 
Baker 'twas, when hee ply'd the peele: hee is leading his 10 
flocke into the Fayre, now. 

WiN-w. Rather driuing 'hem to the Pens: for he will 
let 'hem looke vpon nothing. 

Kno. Gentlewomen, the weather's hot! whither walke 
you ? [Little-wit is gazing at the figne ; which is the Pigs-head with a 1 5 
large writing vnder it.'] Haue a care o'your fine veluet caps, [34] 
the Fayre is dufty. Take a fweet delicate Booth, with 
boughs, here, ithe way, and coole your felues i'the (hade: 
you and your friends. The befl pig and bottle-ale i'the 
Fayre, Sir. Old Vrjla is Cooke, there you may read: the 20 
pigges head fpeakes it. Poore foule, fliee has had a 
Sringhalt, the Afaryhinchco: but fhee's prettily amended. 

Whi. a delicate fhow-pig, little Millris, with fhweet 
fauce, and crackling, like de bay-leafe i'de fire, la! Tou 
fhalt ha'de cleane fide o'de table-clot and di glaff vafh'd 25 
with phaterfli of Dame AtmesJJi Cleare. 

loH. This's fine, verily, here be the beft. pigs: and fhee 
doe's roafl 'hem as well as euer fhe did; the Pigs head 
fayes. 

Kno. Excellent, excellent, Miflris, with fire o'Iu?iiper ^o 
and Rofemary branches! The Oracle of the Pigs head, 
that. Sir. 

PvR. Sonne, were you not warn'd of the vanity of the 
eye ? haue you forgot the wholefome admonition, fo 
foone ? 25 

7 of the] o'the ibqz, 1716, W 8 comes] come iyi6, IV, G 



56 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

loH. Good mother, how fhall we iSnde a pigge, if we 

doe not looke about for't ? will it run off o'the fpit, into 

our mouths thinke you? as in Lubberland} and cry, we, 

we ? 

5 Bvs. No, but your mother, religioufly wife, conceiueth it 

may offer it felfe, by other meanes, to the fenfe, as by way 

of fleeme, which I thinke it doth, here in this place (Huh, 

huh) \^\x{y fents after it like a Houndi\ yes, it doth. and it were 

a finne of obflinacy, great obllinacy, high and horrible 

10 obflinacy, to decline, or refifl the good titillation of the 

famelick fenfe, which is the fmell. Therefore be bold 

(huh, huh, huh) follow the fent. Enter the Tents of the 

vncleane, for once, and fatisfie your wiues frailty. Let 

your fraile wife be fatisfied: your zealous mother, and my 

15 'fuffering felfe, will alfo be fatisfied. 

lOH. Come, Win, as good winny here, as goe farther, 
and fee nothing. 

Bvs. Wee fcape fo much of the other vanities, by our 
earely entring. 
20 PvR. It is an aedifying confideration. 

Win. This is fcuruy, that wee mufl come into the Fayre, 
and not looke on't. 

loH. Wi?i, haue patience. Win, I'le tell you more anon. 

Kno. Moone-calfe, entertaine within there, the befl pig 
25 i'the Booth; a Porklike pig. Thefe are B anbury-bloods, 
o'the fmcere flud, come a pigge-hunting. Whit, wait Whit, 
looke to your charge. 

Bvs. A pigge prepare, prefently, let a pigge be pre- 
pared to vs. 
30 Moo. S'light, who be thefe ? 

Vrs. Is this the good feruice, Jordan, you'ld doe me ? 

Kno. Why, Vrs ? why, Vrs ? thou'lt ha'vapours i'thy 
legge againe prefently, pray thee go in, 'tmay turne to 
the fcratches elfe. 
[35] Vrs. Hang your vapours, they are flale and llinke like 
you, are thefe the guefls o'the game, you promis'd to fill 
my pit withall, to day? 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 57 

Kno. I, what aile they Vrs ? 

Vrs, Aile they ? they are all fippers, fippers o'the City, 
they looke as they would not drinke off two penn'orth of 
bottle-ale amongfl 'hem. 

Moo. A body may read that i'their fmall printed ruffes. 5 

Kno. Away, thou art a foole, Vrs, and thy Aloone-calfe 
too, i'your ignorant vapours, now ? hence, good guefls, I 
fay right hypocrites, good glvittons. In, and fet a couple 
o'pigs o'the board, and halfe a dozen of the biggefl bottles 
afore 'hem, and call Whit, I doe not loue to heare Inno- 10 
cents abus'd: Fine ambling hypocrites! and a flone- 
puritane, with a forrell head, and beard, good mouth'd 
gluttons: two to a pigge, away. 

Vrs. Are you fure they are fuch ? 

Kno. O'the right breed, thou flialt try 'hem by the teeth, 15 
Vrs, Where's this Whit ? 

Whi, Behold, man and fee, ivhat a worthy man am ee ! 
With the fury of my fword, and the fJiaking of my beard, 
I will make ten thoufand men afeard. 

Kno. Well faid, braue Whit, in, and feare the ale out 20 
o'the bottles, into the bellies of the brethren, and the 
fillers drinke to the caufe, and pure vapours. 

QvAR. My Roarer is turn'd Tapfter, mee thinks. Now 
were a fine time for thee, Win-wife, to lay aboard thy wid- 
dow, thou'lt neuer be Mafler of a better feafon, or place; 25 
(hee that will venture her felfe into the Fayre, and a pig- 
boxe, will admit any affault, be affur'd of that. 

Win. I loue not enterprifes of that fuddeneffe, though. 

OvAR. rie warrant thee, then, no wife out o'the wid- 
dowes Hundred: if I had but as much Title to her, as to 30 
haue breath'd once on that flreight flomacher of hers, I 
would now affure my felfe to carry her, yet, ere fhe went 
out of Smithfield. Or fhe fhould carry me, which were the 
fitter fight, I confeffe. But you are a modefl vndertaker, 

7 now?] now: 769.?, ijib, W : now! G 
21 G suggests that see that be supplied between and and the. 
25 be Mafler] be a Master i6g2, 1716 



58 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

by circumflances, and degrees; come, 'tis Difeafe in thee, 
not ludgement, I fhould offer at all together, Looke, 
here's the poore foole, againe, that was flung by the wafpe, 
ere while. 



[36] Act. III. Scene. III. 

IvsTicE. Win-wife. Qvarlovs. 

5 T will make no more orations, fhall draw on thefe tragi- 

call conclufions. And I begin now to thinke, that by 

a fpice of collaterall luflice, Adam Ouerdoo, deferu'd this 

beating; for I the faid Adam, was one caufe (a by-caufe) 

why the purfe was lofl: and my wiues brothers purfe too, 

10 which they know not of yet. But I fhall make very good 
mirth with it, at fupper, (that will be the fport) and put 
my little friend, M"^ Humphrey Wafp's choler quite out of 
countenance. When, fitting at the vpper end o'my Table, 
as I vfe, & drinking to my brother Cokes, and M". Alice 

15 Ouerdoo, as I wil, my wife, for their good affe6lio to old 
Bradley, I deliuer to 'hem, it was I, that was cudgell'd, and 
fhew 'hem the marks. To fee what bad euents may peepe 
out o'the taile of good purpofes! the care I had of that 
ciuil ybng man, I tooke fancy to this morning, (and haue 

20 not left it yet) drew me to that exhortation, which drew 
the company, indeede, which drew the cut-purfe; which 
drew the money; which drew my brother Cokes his loffe; 
which drew on Wafp's anger; which drew on my beating: 
a pretty gradation! And they fhall ha'it i'their difh, i'faith, 

25 at night for fruit: I loue to be merry at my Table. I had 
thought once, at one fpeciall blow he ga'me, to haue 
reuealed my felfe ? but then (I thank thee fortitude) I 
remembred that a wife man (and who is euer fo great a 

27 my {e\le followed by a semicolon i6g2, 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 59 

part, o'the Commonwealth in himfelfe) for no particular 
difafler ought to abandon a publike good defigne. The 
husbandman ought not for one vnthankful yeer, to for- 
fake the plough; The Shepheard ought not, for one 
fcabb'd fheep, to throw by his tar-boxe; The Pilot ought 5 
not for one leake i'the poope, to quit the Helme; Nor 
the Alderman ought not for one cufterd more, at a meale, 
to giue vp his cloake; The Conflable ought not to breake 
his flaffe, and forfweare the watch, for one roaring night; 
Nor the Piper o'the Parifh (F/ paruis componcre^ mag)ia 10 
folebani) to put vp his pipes, for one rainy Sunday. Thefe 
are certaine knocking conclufions; out of which, I am 
refolu'd, come what come can, come beating, come 
imprifonment, come infamy, come banifhment, nay, come 
the rack, come the hurdle, (welcome all) I will not dif- 15 
couer who I am, till my due time; and yet flill, all fhall 
be, as I faid euer, in luflice name, and the King's, and for 
the Common-wealth. 

Win. What doe's he talke to himfelfe, and a6l fo feri- [37] 
oufly ? poore foole! 20 

QvAR. No matter what. Here's frefher argument, 
intend that. 



Act. III. Scene. IIIJ. 
Cokes. Leatherhead. VVaspe. Miftreffe 

OVERDOO. WiN-VVIFE. OvARLOVS. 

Trash. Grace. 

/^Ome, Miftreffe Grace, come Sifter, heere's more fine 
^ fights, yet i'faith. Gods'lid where's Numps ? 

Lea. What doe you lacke. Gentlemen ? what is't you 25 
buy? fine Rattles! Drummes ? Babies? little Dogges ? 
and Birds for Ladies ? What doe you lacke ? 



6o Bartholmevv Fayre. 

CoK. Good honeil Numpes^ keepe afore, I am fo afraid 
thou'lt lofe fomewhat: my heart was at my mouth, when 
I mill thee. 

Was. You were beil buy a whip i'your hand to driue 
5 me. 

CoK. Nay, doe not miflake, Niimps, thou art fo apt to 
miflake: I would but watch the goods. Looke you now, 
the treble fiddle, was e'en almoft like to be lofl. 

Was. Pray you take heede you lofe not your felfe: 
lo your befl way, were e'en get vp, and ride for more furety. 
Buy a tokens worth of great pinnes, to faflen your felfe 
to my fhoulder. 

Lea. What doe you lacke. Gentlemen ? fine purfes, 
pouches, pincafes, pipes ? What is't you lacke ? a paire 
15 o'fmithes to wake you i'the morning ? or a fine whiflling 
bird? 

CoK. Numps, here be finer things then any we ha'bought 
by oddes! and more delicate horfes, a great deale! good 
Numpes, ft^y, ^nd come hither. 
20 Was. Will you fcourfe with him ? you are in Srnithfield^ 
you may fit your felfe with a fine eafy-going flreet-nag, 
for your faddle again' Michaelmajfe-terme, doe, has he ne'er 
a little odde cart for you, to make a Carroch on, i'the 
countrey, with foure pyed hobbyhorfes ? why the meazills, 
25 fhould you fland heere, with your traine, cheaping of 
Dogges, Birds, and Babies ? you ha'no children to bellow 
'hem on ? ha'yOu ? 

CoK. No, but again' I ha'children, Ninnps^ that's allone. 

Was. Do, do, do, do; how many fhall you haue, think 

30 you ? an' I were as you, I'ld buy for all my Tenants, too, 

they are a kind o'ciuill Sauages, that wil part with their 

children for rattles, pipes, and kniues. You were befl buy 

a hatchet, or two, & truck with 'hem. 

[38] CoK. Good Nirmps, hold that little tongue o'thine, and 

35 faue it a labour. I am refolute Bat^ thou know'fl. 

Was. a refolute foole, you are, I know, and a very 
fufficient Coxcombe; with all my heart; nay you haue it, 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 6 1 

Sir, and you be angry, turd i'your teeth, twice: (if I faid 
it not once afore) and much good doe you. 

Win. Was tliere euer fuch a felfe-affli6lion ? and fo 
impertinent ? 

QvAR. Alas! his care will goe neere to cracke him, 5 
let's in, and comfort him. 

Was. Would I had beene fet i'the ground, all but the 
head on me, and had my braines bowl'd at, or threfh'd 
out, when firfl I vnderwent this plague of a charge! 

QvAR. How now, Numps\ almofl tir'd i'your Prote6lor- 10 
fhip ? ouerparted ? ouerparted ? 

Was. Why, I cannot tell, Sir, it may be I am, dos't 
grieue you ? 

QvAR. No, I fweare dos't not, Niimps: to fatisfie you. 

Was. JVuf/ipsl S'blood, you are fine and familiar! 15 
how long ha'wee bin acquainted, I pray you ? 

Qvar. I thinke it may be remembred, Nutnps, that ? 
'twas fince morning fure. 

Was. Why, I hope I know't well enough. Sir, I did 
not aske to be told. 20 

Qvar. No ? why then ? 

Was. It's no matter why, you fee with your eyes, now, 
what I faid to you to day ? you'll beleeue me another 
time ? 

Qvar. Are you remouing the Fayre, Nicmps ? 25 

Was. a pretty queflion! and a very ciuill one! yes 
faith, I ha'my lading you fee; or fhall haue anon, you may 
know whofe beaft I am, by my burthen. If the pannier- 
mans lacke were euer better knowne by his loynes of 
mutton, rie be flead, and feede dogs for him, when his 30 
time comes. 

Win. How melancholi' Miflreffe Grace is yonder! pray 
thee let's goe enter our felues in Grace, with her. 

CoK, Thofe fixe horfes, friend I'le haue — 

Was. How! 35 

30 flead] flayed G 



62 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

CoK. And the three lewes trumps; and halfe a dozen 

o'Birds, and that Drum, (I haue one Drumme already) 

and your Smiths; I like that deuice o'your fmiths, very 

pretty well, and four Halberts — and (le'me fee) that fine 

5 painted great Lady, and her three women for ftate, I'le 

haue. 

Was. No, the fhop; buy the whole fhop, it will be befl, 

the fhop, the fhop! 

Lea. If his worfhip pleafe. 

lo Was. Yes, and keepe it during the Fayre, Bobchin. 

^ CoK. Peace, Nunips, friend, doe not meddle with him, 

[39] an' you be wife, and would fhew your head aboue board: 

hee will fling thorow your wrought night-cap, beleeue me, 

A fet of thefe Violines, I would buy too, for a delicate 

15 young noife I haue i'the countrey, that are euery one a fize 

leffe then another, iufl like your fiddles. I would faine 

haue a fine young Mafque at my marriage, now I thinke 

on't: but I doe want fuch a number o'things. And Numps 

will not helpe me now, and I dare not fpeake to him. 

20 Tra. Will your worfhip buy any ginger-bread, very 

good bread, comfortable bread ? 

CoK. Ginger-bread! yes, let's fee. 

\^He runnes to her Jhop. 
Was. There's the tother fprindge ? 

Lea. Is this well, goody lone ? to interrupt my market ? 

25 in the midfl? and call away my cullomers ? can you anfwer 

this, at the Piepouldres ? 

Tra. Why ? if his Mafler-fhip haue a minde to buy, I 

hope my ware lies as open as another's; I may fliew my 

ware, as well as you yours, 

30 CoK. Hold your peace; I'le content you both: I'le buy 

vp his fhop, and thy basket. 

Was. Will you i'faith ? 

Lea. Why fhould you put him from it, friend ? 

Was. Cry you mercy! you'ld be fold too, would you ? 

35 what's the price on you ? lerkin, and all as you fland ? 

Iia'you any qualities ? 

II Numps,] Numps, j6g2, jji6, IV: Numps. — G 
27 haue] has 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 6;^ 

Tra. Yes, good-man angry-man, you fhall finde he has 
qualities, if you cheapen him. 

Was. Gods fo, you ha'the felling of him! what are 
they ? will they be bought for loue, or money ? 

Tra. No indeed. Sir. 5 

Was. For what then ? vi6tualls ? 

Tra. He fcornes vi6luals, Sir, he has bread and butter 
at home, thanks be to God! and yet he will do more for 
a good meale, if the toy take him i'the belly, mary then 
they mufl not fet him at lower end; if they do, he'll goe 10 
away, though he fafl. But put him a top o'the Table, 
where his place is, and hee'll doe you forty fine things. 
Hee has not been fent for, and fought out for nothing, at 
your great citty-fuppers, to put downe Coriat, and Cokeley, 
and bin laught at for his labour; he'll play you all the 15 
Puppets i'the towne ouer, and the Players, euery company, 
and his owne company too; he fpares no body! 

CoK. I'faith ? 

Tra. Hee was the firfl. Sir, that euer baited the fellow 
i'the beare's skin, an't like your worfhip: no dog euer 20 
came neer him, fince. And for fine motions! 

CoK. Is hee good at thofe too ? can hee fet out a Mafque 
trow ? 

Tra. O Lord, Mailer! fought to farre, and neere, for 
his inuentions: and hee engroffes all, hee makes all the [40] 
Puppets i'the Fayre. 

CoK. Do'fl thou (in troth) old veluet lerkin ? giue mee 
thy hand. 

Tra. Nay, Sir, you fhall fee him in his veluet lerkin, 
and a fcarfe, too, at night, when you heare him interpret 30 
Mailer Little-wifs Motion. 

CoK. Speake no more, but fhut vp fliop prefently, 
friend. I'le buy both it, and thee too, to carry downe 
with me, and her hamper, befide. Thy fhop fhall furnifh 
out the Mafque, and hers the Banquet: I cannot goe leffe, 3c 
to fet out any thing with credit. ■ what's the price, at a 
word, o'thy whole (hop, cafe, and all as it flands ? 

10 end] ends idgz, 1716, W, G 



64 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Lea. Sir, it (lands me in fixe and twenty fhillings 
feuen pence, halfe-peny, befides three fhillings for my 
ground. 

CoK. Well, thirty fhillings will doe all, then! And 
5 what comes yours too ? 

Tra. Foure fhillings, and eleauen pence, Sir, ground, 
and all, an't like your worfhip. 

CoK. Yes, it do's like my worfhip very well, poore 
woman, that's fiue flaillings more, what a Mafque fhall I 
lo furnifh out, for forty fhillings ? (twenty pound fcotfh) and 
a Banquet of Ginger-bread ? there's a flately thing! Niimps ? 
Sifler ? and my wedding gloues too ? (that I neuer thought 
on afore.) All my wedding gloues, Ginger-bread? O 
me! what a deuice will there be ? to make 'hem eate their 
15 fingers ends! and delicate Brooches for the Bride-men! 
and all! and then I'le ha'this poefie put to 'hem: For the 
bejl grace, meaning Miflreffe Grace, my wedding poefie. 

Gra. I am beholden to you, Sir, and to your Barthol- 
7new-'w\t. 
20 Was. You doe not meane this, doe you ? is this your 
firfl purchafe ? 

CoK. Yes faith, and I doe not thinke, Numpes, but 
thou'lt fay, it was the wifeft A6t, that euer I did in my 
wardfhip. 
25 Was. Like inough! I fhall fay any thing. I! 

10 (hillings ?] shillings, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 65 



Act. III. Scene. V. [41] 

IVSTICE. EdGVVORTH. NIGHTINGALE. 

T Cannot beget a ProieH^ with all my politicall braine, 
yet; my Proieft is how to fetch off this proper young 
man, from his debaucht company: I haue followed him all 
the Fayre ouer, and flill I finde him with this fongfler: 
And I begin fhrewdly to fufpe6t their familiarity; and the 5 
young man of a terrible taint, Poetry ! with which idle 
difeafe, if he be infe6led, there's no hope of him, in a flate- 
courfe. AHum eft, of him for a common-wealths-man : if 
hce goe to't in Rime, once. 

Edg. Yonder he is buying o'Ginger-bread: fet in lo 
quickly, before he part wirh too much on his money. 

Nig. My majlers and friends, and good people, draw neere, 

CoK. Ballads ! harke, harke ! pray thee, fellow, flay a 
little, good Numpes, looke to the goods. \Hcrunn'sto the Bal- 15 
ladman.'\ What Ballads hafl thou ? let me fee, let me fee my 
felfe. 

Was. Why fo ! hee's tlowne to another lime-bufh, there 
he will flutter as long more; till hee ha'ne'r a feather left. 
Is there a vexation like this, Gentlemen ? will you beleeue 20 
mee now, hereafter ? fhall I haue credit with you ? 

QvAR. Yes faith, fhalt thou, Numps, and thou art wor- 
thy on't, for thou fweatefl for't. I neuer faw a young 
Pimpe errant, and his Squire better match'd. 

WiN-w. Faith, the fifler comes after 'hem, well, too. 25 

Gra. Nay, if you faw the luflice her hufband, my 
Guardian, you were fitted for the Meffe, hee is fuch a wife 
one his way — 

WiN-w. I wonder, wee fee him not heere. 

II on] of i6g2, 1716, IV, G 



66 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

* Gra. O ! hee is too ferious for this place, and yet bet- 

ter fport then then the other three, I affure you. Gentle- 
men: where ere he is, though't be o'the Bench. 

CoK. How doll thou call it! A caueat againft cut- 
5 purfes! a good iefl, i'faith, I would faine fee that Z)^mon, 
your Cutpurfe, you talke of, that delicate handed Diuell ; 
they fay he walkes hereabout; I would feehim walke, now. 
Looke you fifler, here, here, \^He Jlio%vs his purfeboajiingly.'\ let 
him come, filler, and welcome. Ballad-man, do's any cut- 
lo purfes haunt hereabout ? pray thee raife me one or two: 
beginne and fhew me one. 

Nig. Sir, this is a fpell againfl 'hem, fpicke and fpan 
new; and 'tis made as 'twere in mine owne perfon, and I 
[42] fmg it in mine owne defence. But 'twill cofl a penny 
15 alone, if you buy it. 

CoK. No matter for the price, thou dofl not know me, 
I fee, I am an odd Bartholmew. 

OvE. Ha'fl a fine picture. Brother ? 
CoK. O Sifter, doe you remember the ballads ouer the 
20 Nurfery-chimney at home o'my owne pafling vp, there be 
braue pi6lures. Other manner of pi6lures, than thefe, 
friend. 

Was. Yet thefe will ferue to picke the pi6lures out o' 
your pockets, you Ihall fee. 
25 CoK. So, I heai'd 'hem fay. Pray thee mind him not, 
fellow: hee'U haue an oare in euery thing. 

Nig. It was intended Sir, as if a purfe fhould chance 
to be cut in myprefence, now, I may be blameleffe, though: 
as by the fequell, will more plainly appeare. 
30 CoK. We fliall find that i'the matter. Pray thee begin. 
Nig. To the tune of Paggingtons Pound, Sir, 
CoK. Fa, la la la, la la la, fa la la la. Nay, I'll put thee 
in tune, and all ! mine owne country dance! Pray thee 
begin. 
35 Nig. It is a gentle admonition, you mufl know. Sir, 
both to the purfe-cutter, and the purfe-bearer. 

CoK. Not a word more, out o'the tune, an' thou lou'fl 
mee: Fa, la la la, la la la, fa la la la. Come, when ? 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 67 

Nig. My majlers and frietids^ a?id good people dt'aw tieere, 

And looke to your piirfes^ for that I do fay \ 
CoK. Ha, ha, this chimes ! good counfell at firfl dafli. 
Nig. And though little money, in them you doe beare. 

It cofl more to get, then to lofe in a day. 5 

[CoK. Good! 
Yo2t oft haue beene told, 
Both the young and the old ; 
And bidden beware of the cutpurfefo bold : 
Then if you take heed not, free me from the curfe, 10 

Who both giue you avartting, for and, the cutpurfe. 

[CoK. Well faid! hee were 
to blame that wold not i'faith. 
Youth, youth, thou hadft better bin flaru' d by thy Nurfe, 
Then Hue to be hatiged for cutting a purfe. ' 15 

CoK. Good i'faith, how fay you, Nmnps ? Is there any 
harme i'this ? 

Nig. // hath bin vpbrayded to men of my trade. 

That ofte times we are the caufe of this crime. 

[CoK. The more coxcobes they 20 
that did it, I wuffe. 
Alacke and for pitty, why fJiould it be faid 1 
As if they regarded or places, or time. 
Examples haue been 

Of fome that were feen, 25 

In Weflminfler Hall, yea the pleaders betiveen, 
Then why fJiould the ludges be free from this curfe. 
More then my poore felfe, for cutting the purfe ? 

[CoK. God a mercy for that! why fhould they be 

more free indeede ? 30 

Youth, youth, thou hadfl better bin flaru'd by thy Nurfe, 
Then Hue to be hanged for cutting a purfe. 
CoK. That againe, good Ballad-man, that againe. S^Hc [43] 
fings the burden with Jiim.'X O rare ! I would faine rubbe mine 

II iox followed by a comma, none after and i6g2, ijid, W, G 
13 wold] would i6g2, 1716, W, G 



68 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

elbow now, but I dare not pull out my hand. On, I pray 
thee, hee that made this ballad, fliall be Poet to my Mafque. 
Nig. At Worcter 'tis knowne well^ and euen Vthe layle^ 
A Knight of good wot' JJiip did there JJiew his face, 
5 Againfl the foule finners, in zeale for to rayle, 

And loft (ipfo fa6lo) his purfe in the place. 
[CoK. Is it poffible ? 
Nay^ once from the Seat 
Of ludgement fo great ^ 
lo A Judge there did lofe a f aire pouch of veluete. 

[CoK. I'faith ? 
O Lord for thy mercy, hozv wicked or worfe, 
Are thofe that fo venture their necks for a purfe ! Youth, 
youth, d^c. 
15 CoK. Youth, youth, dr^cl pray thee flay a little, friend, 
yet o'thy confcience, Numps, fpeake, is there any harme 
i'this? 

Was. To tell you true, 'tis too good for you, leffe you 

had grace to follow it. 

20 Ivs. It doth difcouer enormitie, I'le marke it more : I 

ha'not lik'd a paltry piece of poetry, fo well a good while. 

CoK. Youth, youth, ore ! where's this youth, now ? A 

man mufl call vpon him, for his owne good, and yet hee 

will not appeare : looke here, here's for him, [ffeejJtewcs his 

25 purfe.'] handy-dandy, which hand will he haue ? On, I pray 

thee, with the rell, I doe heare of him, but I cannot fee 

him, this Mafler Youth, the cutpurfe. 

Nig. At Playes and at Sermons, and at the Sefsions, 
' Tis daily their practice fuch booty to inake: 
-o Yea, vnder the Galloives, at Executions, 

They flicke not the Stare-abouts///;;y>i' to take. 
Nay one tvithout grace, 
at a better place, 

14 In place of&'c, G inserts : thou hadst better been starv'd by thy nurse, 

Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse. 
15 &^^?] &c. 77/6, IV: Szc.— G 33 At a [far] better place, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 69 

At Court, &" in Chrillmas, before the Kings face ^ 

[CoK. That was a fine fellow! 
I would haue him, now. 
Alacke then for pitty mufl I beare the curfe, 
That onely belongs to the cunning cutpiirfe ? 5 

CoK. But where's their cunning, now, when they 
fhould vfe it ? they are all chain'd now, I warrant you. 
Youth, youth, thou hadfl better, qj^c. The Rat-catchers 
charme, are all fooles and Affes to this! A poxe on 'hem, 
that they will not come! that a man fhould haue fuch a 10 
defire to a thing, and want it. 

QvAR. 'Fore God, I'ld giue halfe the Fayre, and 'twere 
mine, for a cutpurfe for him, to faue his longing. 

CoK. Looke you Sifter, [HeeJJiewes his pitr/e againe.'\h.eere., 
heere, where is't now ? which pocket is't in ? for a wager ? 15 

Was. I befeech you leaue your wagers, and let him end 
his matter, an't may be. 

CoK. O, are you aedified Numps ? 

Ivs. Indeed hee do's interrupt him, too much : there 
Numps fpoke to purpofe. 20 

CoK. \againt.'\ Sifter, I am an Affe, I cannot keepe my [44] 
purfe : on, on ; I pray thee, friend. 

[Edgworth gets vp to him, and tickles him in the eare with ajlraw twice 
to drazv his hand out of his pocket. 

Nig. But O, you vile station of cutpurfes all, 

Relent a?id repent, and amend and be found. 
And know that you ought 7wt, by honefl mens fall, 25 

Adnauce your owne fortunes, to die aboue ground. 
And though you goe gay. 
In filkes as you may, 
[WiNw. Will you fee fport ? looke, there's 
a fellow gathers vp to him, marke. 30 

[QvA. Good, 'ifaith ! 6 he has lighted on 
the wrog pocket. 

9 Charms ly 16, PF, G 
22 G inserts: Night. Youth, youth, thou hadst better been starv'd 

by thy nurse, 
Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse. 



70 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

[WiNW. He has it, 'fore God hee is a 
braue fellow ; pitty hee fhould be dete6led. 
// is not the high way to heauen, {as they fay) 
, Repent then ^ repent you., for better^ for worfe: 

5 And kiffe not the Galloives for cutting a purfe. 

Youth., youth., thou hadfl better bin fieriid by thy JVurfe, 
Then Hue to be hanged for cutting a purfe. 
All An excellent ballad ! an excellent ballad ! 
Edg. Friend, let mee ha'the firfl, let mee ha'the firfl, 
10 I pray you. 

CoK. Pardon mee, Sir. Firfl come, firfl feru'd ; and 
rie buy the whole bundle too. 

Win. That conueyance was better then all, did you 
fee't ? he has giuen the purfe to the ballad-fmger. 
15 QvAR. Has hee ? 

Edg. Sir, I cry you mercy ; I'le not hinder the poore 
mans profit : pray you miflake me not. 

CoK. Sir, I take you for an honefl Gentleman ; if that 
be miflaking, I met you to day afore : ha ! humh ! O 
20 God ! my purfe is gone, my purfe, my purfe, &c. 

Was. Come, doe not make a flirre, and cry your felfe 
an Affe, thorovv the Fayre afore your time. 

CoK. Why hafl thou it, Numpes ? good Numpes, how 
came you by it ? I mar'le ! 
25 Was. I pray you feeke fome other gamfler, to play the 
foole with : you may lofe it time enovigh, for all your 
Fayre-w'it. 

CoK. By this good hand, gloue and all, I ha'lofl it 
already, if thou hafl it not : feele elfe, and Miflris ^Grace's 
30 handkercher, too, out o'the tother pocket. 

Was. Why, 'tis well ; very well, exceeding pretty, and 
well. 

Edg. Are you fure you ha'lofl it. Sir? 
CoK. O God ! yes ; as I am an honefl man, I had it 
35 but e'en now, at youth, youth. 

18 Gentleman ;] gentleman, G 19 O God] O Lord G 

20 &c. om.y a third my purse inserted G 34 O God] O Lord G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 71 

Nig. I hope you fufpe6l not me, Sir. 

Edg. Thee ? that were a iefl indeede ! Dofl thou 
thinke the Gentleman is foolifh ? where hadfl. thou hands, 
I pray thee ? Away Affe, away. 

Ivs. I fhall be beaten againe, if I be fpi'd. 5 

Edg. Sir, I fufpe6l an odde fellow, yonder, is flealing 
away. 

OvE. Brother, it is the preaching fellow ! you fliall [45] 
fufpe6l him. He was at your tother purfe, you know ! 
Nay, flay. Sir, and view the worke you ha'done, an' you 10 
be benefic'd at the Gallowes, and preach there, thanke 
your owne handy-worke. 

CoK. Sir, you fhall take no pride in your preferment : 
you fhall be filenc'd quickly. 

Ivs. What doe you meane ? fweet buds of gentility. 15 

CoK. To ha'my peneworths out on you : Bud. No 
leffe then two purfes a day, ferue you ? I thought you a 
fimple fellow, when my man Numpes beate )^ou, i'the 
morning, and pittied you — 

OvE. So did I, I'll befworne, brother ; but now I fee 20 
hee is a lewd, and pernicious Enormity : (as Mafler Ouer- 
doo calls him.) 

Ivs. Mine owne words turn'd vpnon mee, like fwords. 

CoK. Cannot a man's purfe be at quiet for you, i'the 
Maflers pocket, but you mufl intice it forth, and debauch 25 
it? 

Was. Sir, Sir, keepe your debauch, and your fine 
Bartholme7v-teYxnes to your felfe ; and make as much on 
'hem as you pleafe. But gi'me this from you, i'the 
meane time : I befeech you, fee if I can looke to this. 30 

[Wafp takes the Licence from him. 

CoK. Why, Numpsl 

Was. Why ? becaufe you are an Affe, Sir, there's a 
reafon the fliortefl way, and you will needs ha'it ; now 
you ha'got the tricke of lofing, you'ld lofe your breech, 
an't 'twere loofe. I know you, Sir, come, deliuer, you'll 35 
goe and cracke the vermine, you breed now, will you ? 'tis 



72 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

very fine, will you ha'the truth on't ? they are fnch retch- 
leffe flies as you are, that blow cutpurfes abroad in euery 
corner ; your foolifh hauing of money, makes 'hem. An' 
there were no wifer then I, Sir, the trade fhould lye open 
5 for you, Sir, it fliould i'faith. Sir. I would teach your 
wit to come to your head. Sir, as well as your land to 
come into your hand, I affure you, Sir. 
Win. Alacke, good Numps. 

Was. Nay, Gentlemen, neuer pitty mee, I am not 
lo worth it : Lord fend me at home once, to Harrow o'the 
Hill againe, if I trauell any more, call me Coriat ; with all 
my heart. 

QvAR. Stay, Sir, I mufl haue a word with you in 

priuate. Doe you heare ? 

15 Edg. With me, Sir? what's your pleafure ? good Sir. 

QvAR. Doe not deny it. You are a cutpurfe. Sir, this 

Gentleman here, and I, faw you, nor doe we meane to 

dete6t you (though we can fufficiently informe our felues, 

toward the danger of concealing you) but you mufl doe vs 

20 a piece of feruice. 

Edg. Good Gentlemen, doe not vndoe me ; I am a 
ciuill young man, and but a beginner, indeed. 

QvAR. Sir, your beginning Ihall bring on your ending, 
[46] for vs. We are no Catchpoles nor Conflables. That you 
25 are to vndertake, is this ; you faw the old fellow, with the 
blacke boxe, here ? 

Edg. The little old Gouernour, Sir ? 
QvAR. That fame : I fee, you haue flowne him to a 
marke already. I would ha'you get away that boxe from 
30 him, and bring it vs. 

Edg. Would you ha'the boxe and all, Sir ? or onely 
that, that is in't ? I'le get you that, and leaue him the 
boxe, to play with flill : (which will be the harder o'the 
two) becaufe I would gaine your worfhips good opinion 

35 of me. 

WiN-w. He fayes well, 'tis the greater Maflry, and 
'twill make the more fport when 'tis mifl. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 73 

Edg. I, and 'twill be the longer a miffing, to draw on 
the fport. 

QvAR. But looke you doe it now, firrah, and keepe 
your word : or — 

Edg. Sir, if euer I breake my word, with a Gentleman, 5 
may I neuer read word at my need. Where fliall I find 
you ? 

QvAR. Some-where i'the Fayre, heereabouts. Difpatch 
it quickly. I would faine fee the carefull foole deluded! 
of all Beafls, I loue the ferious Affe. He that takes paines 10 
to be one, and playes the foole, with the greatefl diligence 
that can be. 

Gra. Then you would not chofe. Sir, but loue my 
Guardian, luilice Ouerdoo, who is anfwerable to that de- 
fcription, in euery haire of him. 15 

QvAR. So I haue heard. But how came you, Miflris 
Welborne, to be his Ward ? or haue relation to him, at firfl. ? 

Gra. Faith, through a common calamity, he bought 
me, Sir ; and now he will marry me to his wiues brother, 
this wife Gentleman, that you fee, or elfe I mufl pay value 20 
o'my land 

QvAR. S'lid, is there no deuice of difparagement ? or 
fo ? talke with fome crafty fellow, fome picklocke o'the 
Law ! Would I had fludied a yeere longer i'the Innes of 
Court, and't had beene but i'your cafe. 25 

WiN-w. I Mafler Quarlous, are you proffering ? 

Gra. You'ld bring but little ayde, Sir. 

WiN-w. (I'le looke to you 'ifaith, Gamfler. ) An vn- 
fortunate foolifli Tribe you are falne into. Lady, I wonder 
you can endure 'hem. 30 

Gra. Sir, they that cannot worke their fetters off ; 
mufl weare 'hem. 

WiNw. You fee what care they haue on you, to leaue 
you thus. 

Gra. Faith the fame they haue of themfelues. Sir. I 35 
cannot greatly complaine, if this were all the plea I had 
againfl 'hem. 



74 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Win. 'Tis true! but will you pleafe to withdraw with 

vs, a little, and make them thinke, they haue loft you. I 

hope our manners ha'beene fuch hitherto, and our lan- 

[47] g"^&6, as will giue you no caufe, to doubt your felfe, in 

5 our company. 

Gra. Sir, I will giue my felfe, no caufe ; I am fo 
fecure of mine owne manners, as I fufpe6l not yours. 
QvAR. Looke where lohn Little-ivit comes. 
WiN-w. Away, I'le not be feene, by him. 
10 QvAR. No, you were not befl, hee'ld tell his mother, 
the widdow. 

Win w. Heatt, what doe you meane ? 
QvAR. Cry you mercy, is the winde there? mull not 
the widdow be nam'd ? 



Act. Ill Scene. VI. 

loHN. Win. Trash. Leatherhead. 
Knockhvm. Bvsy. Pvrecraft. 

15 T^Oe you heare Win, WinJ 

^-"^ Win. What fay you, lohti? 

loH. While they are paying the reckoning, JVin, I'll 
tell you a thing Win, wee fliall neuer fee any fights i'the 
Fayre, Win, except you long flill. Win, good Win, fweet 

20 Win, long to fee fome Hobby-horfes, and fome Drummes, 
and Rattles, and Dogs, and fine deuices, Win. The Bull 
with the fine legs. Win ; and the great Hog : now you 
ha'begun with Pigge, you may long for any thing, Win, 
and fo for my Motion, Win. 

25 Win. But we fha'not eat o'the Bull, and the Hogge 
John, how fhall I long then ? 

12 Heatt] Heart 769^, 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 75 

loH, O yes! JVin : you may long to fee, as well as to 
tafle, JVtn : how did the Pothecarie's wife, IVi/i, that long'd 
to fee the Anatomy, JVt'n ? or the Lady, IVi'n, that defir'd 
to fpit i'the great Lawyers mouth, after an eloquent 
pleading ? I affure you they long'd. Win, good Win, goe 5 
in, and long. 

Tra. I think we are rid of our new cuflomer, brother 
Leatherhead, wee fhall heare no more of him. 

[ They plot to be gone. 

Lea. All the better, let's packe vp all, and be gone, 
before he finde vs. 10 

Tra. Stay a little, yonder comes a company : it may 
be wee may take fome more money. 

Kno, Sir, I will take your counfell, and cut my haire, 
and leaue vapours : I fee, that Tabacco, and Bottle-Ale, 
and Pig, and Whit, and very Vrfla, her felfe, is all vanity. 15 

Bvs. Onely Pigge was not comprehended in my ad- 
monition, the reft were. For long haire, it is an Enfigne [48] 
of pride, a banner, and the world is full of thofe banners, 
very full of Banners. And, bottle-ale is a drinke of 
Sathan's, a diet-drinke of Sathans, deuifed to puffe vs vp, 20 
and make vs fwell in this latter age of vanity, as the 
fmoake of tabacco, to keepe vs in mifl and error: But 
the fleflily woman, (which you call Vrfla) is aboue all to 
be auoyded, hauing the marks vpon her, of the three 
enemies of Man, the World, as being in the Faire ; the 25 
Deuill, as being in the fire; and and the Flefh, as being 
her felfe. 

PvR. 'Q\:ot\\erZeale-of-the-land\ what fliall we doe ? my 
daughter Win-the-fight, is falne into her fit of longing 
againe. 30 

Bvs. For more pig ? there is no more, is there ? 

PvR. To fee fome fights i'the Faire. 

Bvs. Sifter, let her fly the impurity of the place, fwiftly, 
left fhee partake of the pitch thereof. Thou art the feate 
of the Beaft, O Sniithfield, and I will leaue thee. Idolatry 35 
peepeth out on euery fide of thee. 



76 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Kno. An excellent right Hypocrite ! now his belly is 
full, he falls a railing and kicking, the lade. A very good 
vapour! I'll in, and ioy VrJIa, with telling, how her pigge 
works, two and a halfe he eate to his fhare. And he has 
5 drunke a pailefuU. He eates with his eyes, as well as his 
teeth. 

Lea. What doe you lack. Gentlemen ? What is't you 
buy? Rattles, Drumms, Babies. — 

Bvs. Peace, with thy Apocryphall wares, thou pro- 
lo phane Publican: thy Bells, thy Dragons, and thy Tobies 
Dogges. Thy Hobby-horfe is an IdoU, a very Idoll, a 
feirce and rancke Idoll : And thou, the Nabiichadnezzar, 
the proud Nahuchad?iezzar of the Faire, that fet'fl it vp, for 
children to fall downe to, and worfliip. 
15 Lea. Cry you mercy, Sir, will you buy a fiddle to fill 
vp your noife. 

loH. Looke Win. doe, looke a Gods name, and faue 
your longing. Here be fine fights. 

PvR. I child, fo you hate 'hem, as oiir Brother Zeale 
20 do's, you may looke on 'hem. 

Lea. Or what do you fay, to a Drumme, Sir ? 

Bvs. It is the broken belly of the Bead, and thy Bel- 
lowes there are his lungs, and thefe Pipes are his throate, 
thofe Feathers are of his taile, and thy Rattles, the gnafh- 
25 ing of his teeth. 

Tra. And what's my ginger-bread ? I pray you. 

Bvs. The prouander that pricks him vp. Hence with 
thy bafket of Popery, thy nell of Images : and whole legend 
of ginger-worke. 
^o Lea. Sir if you be not quiet, the quicklier, I'll ha'you 
clapp'd fairely by the heeles, for diflurbing the Faire. 

Bvs. The finne of the Faire prouokes me, I cannot bee 
filent. 

PvR. Good brother Zeale ! 
[40] Lea. Sir, I'll make you filent, beleeue it. 

loH. Il'd giue a ftiilling, you could i'faith, friend. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 77 

Lea. Sir, giue me your (hilling, I'll giue you myfhop, 
if I do not, and I'll leaue it in pawne with you, i'the meane 
time. 

lOH. A match i'faith, but do it quickly, then. 

Bvs, [He /peakes to the widdow.'] Hinder me not, woman. 5 
I was mou'd in fpirit, to bee here, this day, in this Faire, 
this wicked, and foule Faire \ and fitter may it be a called a 
foule, then a Faire : To protefl again ft the abufes of it, 
the foule abufes of it, in regard of the affli6ted Saints, 
that are troubled, very much troubled, exceedingly 10 
troubled, with the opening of the merchandize of Babylon 
againe, & the peeping of Popery vpon the ftals, here, 
here, in the high places. See you not Goldylocks, the pur- 
ple ftrumpet, there ? in her yellow gowne, and greene 
fleeues? the prophane pipes, the tinckling timbrells ? A 15 
shop of reliques ! 

loH. Pray you forbeare, I am put in truft with 'hem. 

Bvs. And this Idolatrous Groue of Images, this flasket 

of Idols! which I will pull downe — [Ouerthrows the ginger- 
bread. 

' (Tra. O my ware, my Avare, God bleffe it.) 20 

Bvs. In my zeale, and glory to be thus exercis'd. 

[Leatherhead enters with officers. 

Lea. Here he is, pray yovi lay hold on his zeale, wee 
cannot fell a whiftlc, for him, in tune. Stop his noyfe, 
firft! 25 

Bvs. Thou canft not: 'tis a san6lified noife. I will 
make a loud and moft ftrong noife, till I haue daunted the 
prophane enemy. And for this caufe. — 

Lea. Sir, heer's no man afraid of you, or your caufe. 
You fliall fweare it, i'the ftocks. Sir. 30 

Bvs. I will thruft my felfe into the ftocks, vpon the 
pikes of the Land. 

Lea. Carry him away. 

PvR. What doe you meane, wicked men ? 

Bvs. Let them alone; I feare them not. 35 

7 be called a 769.?, 77/6, W, G 



78 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

loH. Was not this fhilling well ventur'd, JVt'n ? for our 
liberty ? Now we may goe play, and fee ouer the Fayre, 
where we lift our felues; my mother is gone after him, 
and let her ee'n go, and loofe vs. 
r Win. Yes lohn, but I know not what to doe. 
lOH. For what, Win ? 

Win. For a thing, I am afliam'd to tell you, i'faith, 
and 'tis too farre to go home. 

loH. I pray thee bee not afham'd, Win. Come, i'faith 
lo thou fhall not be afham'd, is it any thing about the Hobby- 
horfe-man ? an't be, fpeake freely. 

Win, Hang him, bafe Bobchin, I fcorne him; no, I 
haue very great, what fha'call'um, lohn. 

loH. 6! Is that all, ?F/;/ ? wee'll goe backe to Cap- 

15 taine Jordan; to the pig-womans, Win. hee'll helpe vs, or 

[50] fhe with a dripping pan, or an old kettle, or fomething. 

The poore greafie foule loues you. Win, and after we'll 

vifit the Fayre all ouer. Win, and, fee my Puppet play, 

Win, you know it's a fine matter. Win. 

20 Lea. Let's away, I counfell'd you to packe vp afore, 

lone. 

Tra. a poxe of his Bedlem purity. Hee has fpoyl'd 
halfe my ware: but the bell is, wee lofe nothing, if we 
miffe our firfl Merchant. 
25 Lea. It fhall be hard for him to finde, or know vs, 
when we are tranflated, lone. 

4 loofe] lose i6g2, 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 79 



Act. nil. Scene. I. 

Trovble-all. Bristle. Haggise. Cokes 
ivstice. pocher. bvsy. pvrecraft. 

MY Mafters, I doe make no doubt, but you are 
officers. 
Bri. What then, Sir ? 

Tro. And the Kings louing, and obedient 
fubie6ls. 5 

Bri. Obedient, friend ? take heede what you fpeake, 
I aduife you: Oluier Brijlle aduifes you. His louing fub- 
ie(5ls, we grant you : but not his obedient, at this time, by 
your leaue, wee know ourfelues, a little better then fo, 
wee are to command, S^ and fuch as you are to be obe- 10 
dient. Here's one of his obedient fubie6ls, going to the 
flocks, and wee'll make you fuch another, if you talke. 

Tro. You are all wife enough i'your places, I know. 

Bri. If you know it, Sir, why doe you bring it in 
queftion ? 15 

Tro. I queftion nothing, pardon me. I do only hope 
you haue warrant, for Avhat you doe, and fo, quit you, and 

fo, multiply you. [He goes away againe. 

Hag. What's hee ? bring him vp to the flocks there. 
Why bring you him not vp ? 20 

Tro. \co»ies again. 1 If you haue luflice 6>«<'/-^6'(?'.y Warrant, [5^] 
'tis well: you are fafe; that is the warrant of warrants. 
rie not giue this button, for any mans warrant elfe. 

Bri. Like enough, Sir, but let me tell you, an' you play 
away your buttons, thus, you will want 'hem ere night, for 25 
any flore I fee about you: you might keepe 'hem, and 
faue pinnes, I wuffe. [goes away. 

Ivs. What fhould hee be, that doth fo efleeme, and 
aduance my warrant ? he feemes a fober and difcreet per- 



8o Bartholmevv Fayre. 

fon! it is a comfort to a good confcience, to be follow'd 
with a good fame, in his fufferings. The world will haue 
a pretty tafl by this, how I can beare aduerfity: and it will 
beget a kind of reuerence, toward me, hereafter, euen 
5 from mine enemies, when they fhall fee I carry my calam- 
ity nobly, and that it doth neither breake mee, nor bend 
mee. 

Hag. Come, Sir, heere's a place for you to preach in. 
Will you put in your legge ? \_They put him in thejlocks. 

lo Ivs. That I will, cheerefuUy. 

Bri. O'my confcience a Seminary ! hee kiffes the 
flockes. 

CoK. Well my Maflers, I'le leaue him with you; now 
I fee him beflow'd, I'le goe looke for my goods, and 
15 JVumps. 

Hag. You may. Sir, I warrant you; where's the tother 
Bawler ? fetch him too, you fhall find 'hem both fafl 
enough. 

Ivs. In the mid'fl of this tumult, I will yet be the Author 

20 of mine owne refl, and not minding their fury, fit in the 

flockes, in that calme, as fhall be able to trouble a Triicmph, 

Tro. {comes agai7i,'\ Doe yovi affure me vpon your words ? 

may I vndertake for you, if I be ask'd the queflion; that 

you haue this warrant ? 

25 Hag. What's this fellow, for Gods fake ? 

Tro. Doe but fhew me Adam Ouerdoo. and I am fatisfied. 

\_goes out. 
Bri. Hee is a fellow that is diflra6led, they fay; one 
Trouble-all: hee was an officer in the Court oi Pie-pouldres, 
here lafl yeere, and put out on his place by luflice Ouerdoo. 
30 Ivs. Ha! 

Bri. Vpon which, he tooke an idle conceipt, and's 
runne mad vpon't. So that euer fmce, hee will doe 
nothing, but by luflice Ouerdoo's warrant, he will not eate 
a crufl, nor drinke a little, nor make him in his apparell, 
35 ready. His wife, Sirreuerence, cannot get him make his 
water, or fliift his fhirt, without his warrant. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 8i 

Ivs. If this be true, this is my greatefl difafler! how am 
I bound to fatisfie this poore man, that is of fo good a 
nature to mee, out of his wits! where there is no roome 
left for diffembling. 

Tro. [comes in.] If you cannot fhew me Adam Ouerdoo, $ 
I am in doubt of you : I am afraid you cannot anfwere it. 

[goes againe. 

Hag. Before me. Neighbour Brijile (and now I thinke 
on't better) luflice Ouerdoo., is a very parantory perfon. 

Bri. O! are you aduis'd of that ? and a feuere luflicer, 
by your leaue. lo 

Ivs. Doe I heare ill o'that fide, too ? [52] 

Bri. He will fit as vpright o'the bench, an' you marke 
him, as a candle i'the focket, and giue light to the whole 
Court in euery bufinefle. 

Hag. But he will burne blew, and fwell like a bile 15 
(God bleffe vs) an' he be angry. 

Bri. I, and hee will be angry too, when his lift, that's 
more: and when hee is angry, be it right or wrong; 
hee has the Law on's fide, euer. I marke that too. 

Ivs. I will be more tender hereafter. I fee compaffion 20 
may become ^lujlice, though it be a weakneffe, I confeffe; 
and neerer a vice, then a vertue. 

Hag. Well, take him out o'the ftocks againe, wee'll 
goe a fure way to worke, wee'll ha'the Ace of hearts of 
our fide, if we can. [They take the lujlice oiit. 25 

Poc. Come, bring him away to his fellow, there. 
Mafter Bufy, we fliall rule your legges, I hope, though 
wee cannot rule your tongue. 

Bvs. No, Minifter of darkneffe, no, thou canft not rule 
my tongue, my tongue it is mine own, and with it I will 30 
both knocke, and mocke do wne your -5a/'///^/;//^'Zc-abhomi na- 
tions, till you be made a hiffing to the neighbour Parifhes, 
round about. 

Hag. Let him alone, we haue deuis'd better vpon't. 

PvR. And fhall he not into the ftocks then ? 35 

15 bile] Boil 1716, W, G 17 his lift] he's list W : he lists G 



82 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Bri. No, Miflreffe, wee'U haue 'hem both to Iicjlice 
Ouerdoo^ and let him doe ouer 'hem as is fitting. Then I, 
and my goffip Haggis, and my beadle Pocher are difcharg'd. 

PvR. O, I thanke you, bleffed, honefl men! 
5 Bri. Nay, neuer thank vs, but thank this mad-man 
that comes heere, hee put it in our heads. 

PvR. Is hee mad ? Now heauen increafe his madneffe, 
and bleffe it, and thanke it. Sir, your poore hand-maide 
thanks you. \Comes againe. 

lo Tro. Haue you a warrant ? an' you haue a warrant, 
fhew it. 

PvR. Yes, I haue a warrant out of the word, to giue 
thankes for remouing any fcorne intended to the brethren. 

Tro. It is luflice Ouerdoo's warrant, that I looke for, if 
15 you haue not that, keepe your word, I'le keepe mine. 
Quit yee, and multiply yee. 



[53] Act. nil. Scene. II. 

Edgvvorth. Trovble-all. Nightingale. 
Cokes. Costardmonger. 

/^Ome away Nightingale, I pray thee. 

Tro. Whither goe you ? where's your warrant ? 
Edg. Warrant, for what. Sir ? 
20 Tro. For what you goe about, you know how fit it is, 
an' you haue no warrant, bleffe you, I'le pray for you, 
that's all I can doe. \^Goes out. 

Edg. What meanes hee ? 

Nig. a mad-man that haunts the Fayre, doe you not 
25 know him ? it's maruell hee has not more followers, after 
his ragged heeles. 

Scenes I and II constitute in G Scene /. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 83 

Edg. Befhrew him, he flartled me: I thought he had 
knowne of our plot. Guilt's a terrible thing! ha'you 
prepar'd the Coilardmonger ? 

Nig. Yes, and agreed for his basket of peares; hee is 
at the corner here, ready. And your Prife, he comes 5 
downe, failing, that way, all alone ; without his Pro- 
testor: hee is rid of him, it feemes. 

Edg. I, I know; I fhould ha'follow'd his Prote(5lor- 
Ihip for a feat I am to doe vpon him : But this offer'd 
it felfe, fo i'the way, I could not let it fcape: heere he 10 
comes, whiflle, be this fport call'd Dorring the Dottrell. 

Nig. Wh, wh, wh, wh, &C. [Nightingale whijlles 

CoK. By this light, I cannot finde my ginger-bread- 
Wife, nor my Hobby-horfe-man in all the Fayre, now; to 
ha'my money againe. And I do not know the way out 15 
on't, to go home for more, doe you heare, friend, you 
that whiflle ; what tune is that, you whiflle ? 

Nig. a new tune, I am pra6lifmg, Sir. 

CoK. Doll thou know where I dwell, I pray thee ? nay, 
on with thy tune, I ha'no fuch hafl, for an anfwer: I'le 20 
pra6life with thee. 

Cos. Buy any peares, very fine peares, peares fine. 

[Nightingale fets his foote afore him, and he falls with his basket. 

CoK. Gods fo! a muffe, a muffe, a muffe, a muffe. 
Cos. Good Gentleman, my ware, my ware, I am a 
poore man. Good Sir, my ware. 25 

Nig. Let me hold your fword. Sir, it troubles you. [c^] 

CoK. Doe, and my cloake, an' thou wilt; and my hat, 

too. [Cokes falls afcrambling whilefl they rttnne away with his things. 

Edg. a delicate great boy! me thinks, he out-fcram- 
bles 'hem all. I cannot perfwade my felfe, but he goes to 30 
grammer-fchole yet; and playes the trewant, to day. 

Nig. Would he had another purfe to cut, Zekiel. 

Edg. Purfe? a man might cut out liis kidneys, I 
thinke; and he neuer feele 'hem, he is fo earnefl. at the 
fport. 35 

Nig. His foule is halfe way out on's body, at the game. 



84 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Edg. Away, Nightingale: that way. 

CoK. I thinke I am furnifh'd for Catherne peares, for 
one vnder-meale: gi'me my cloake. 

Cos. Good Gentleman, giue me my ware. 
5 CoK. Where's the fellow I ga'my cloake to ? my 
cloake? and my hat? ha! Gods'lid, is he gone? thieues, 
thieues, helpe me to cry, Gentlemen. {^He runs out. 

Edg. Away, Collermonger, come to vs to VrJIa's. 
Talke of him to haue a foule? 'heart, if hee haue any 

lo more then a thing giuen him in flead of fait, onely to 
keepe him from {linking, I'le be hang'd afore my time, 
prefently, where fhould it be trow? in his blood? hee has 
not fo much to'ard it in his whole body, as will maintaine 
a good Flea ; And if hee take this courfe, he will not 

15 ha'fo much land left, as to reare a Calfe within this twelue 
month. Was there euer greene Plouer fo pull'd! That 
his little Ouerfeer had beene heere now, and beene but 
tall enough, to fee him fleale peares, in exchange, for his 
beauer-hat, and his cloake thus? I mufl goe finde him 

20 out, next, for his blacke boxe, and his Patent (it feemes) 
hee has of his place ; which I thinke the Gentleman 
would haue a reuerfion of ; that fpoke to me for it fo 
earneflly. 

CoK. \^He comes againe.] Would I might lofe my doublet, 

25 and hofe, too ; as I am an honefl man, and neuer flirre, if 
I thinke there be any thing, but thieuing, and cooz'ning, 
i'this whole Fayre. Bartholniew-fayre, quoth he ; an' euer 
any Bartholmew had that lucke in't, that I haue had, I'le 
be martyr'd for him, and in Smithfield, too. I ha'paid for 

30 my peares, a rot on 'hem, I'le keepe 'hem no longer ; 
\throws away his peares. '\ you were choake-peares to mee ; I 
had bin better ha'gone to mum chance for you, I wuffe. 
Me thinks the Fayre fhould not haue vs'd me thus, and 
'twere but for my names fake, I would not ha'vs'd a dog'o 

35 the name, fo. O, Numps will triumph, now ! Friend, 
doe you know who I am? or where I lye? I doe not my 

12 prefently,] presently : i6g2, 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 85 

felfe, I'll befworne. Doe but carry me home, and I'le 
pleafe thee, I ha'money enough there, I ha'lofl my felfe, 
and my cloake and my hat ; and my fine fword, and my 
filler, and Numps, and Millris Grace^ (a Gentlewoman that 
I Ihould ha'marryed) and a cut-Avorke handkercher, fhee 5 
ga'mee, and two purfes to day. And my bargaine o' 
Hobby-horfes and Ginger-bread, which grieues me worll 
of all. [Trouble-all comes agaiti. 

Tro. By whofe warrant. Sir, haue you done all this ? 

CoK. Warrant? thou art a wife fellow, indeed, as if a [55] 
man need a warrant to lofe any thing, with. 

Tro. Yes, luflice Ouei'dd's warrant, a man may get, and 
lofe with, rie fland to't. 

CoK. luftice Ouerdoot Dofl thou know him? I lye 
there, hee is my brother in Law, hee marryed my fifler : 15 
pray thee fhew me the way, dofl thou know the houfe ? 

Tro. Sir, fhew mee your warrant, I know nothing 
without a warrant, pardon me, 

CoK. Why, I warrant thee, come along : thou flialt 
fee, I haue wrought pillowes there, and cambricke fheetes, 20 
and fweete bags, too. Pray thee guide me to the houfe. 

Tro. Sir, He tell you ; goe you thither your felfe, 
firfl, alone ; tell your worfhipfull brother your minde: 
and but bring me three lines of his hand, or his Clerkes, 
with Adam Oiicrdoo, vnderneath ; here I'le flay you, He 25 
obey you, and I'le guide you prefently. 

CoK. S'lid, this is an Affe, I ha'found him, poxe vpon 
mee, what doe I talking to fuch a dull foole ; farewell, you 
are a very Coxcomb, doe you heare? 

Tro. I thinke, I am, if luflice Ouerdoo figne to it, I 30 
am, and fo wee are all, hee'll quit vs all, multiply vs all. 



86 Bartholmevv Fayre. 



Act. Ilil. Scene. IIJ. 

Grace. Qvarlovs. Win-wife. Trovble-all. 

Edgvvorth. 

[T/iey enter with their /words drawne. 

/^^ Entlemen, this is no way that you take: you do but 
^"'^ breed one another trouble, and offence, and giue me 
no contentment at all. I am no fhe, that affe6ls to be 
quarrell'd for, or haue my name or fortune made the 
5 queflion of mens fwords. 

QvA. S'lood, wee loue you. 

Gra. If you both loue mee, as you pretend, your owne 
reafon will tell you, but one can enioy me, and to that 
point, there leads a dire6ler line, then by my infamy, which 
lo mufl follow, if you fight. 'Tis true, I haue profefl it to 
you ingenuoufly, that rather then to be yoak'd with this 
Bridegroome is appointed me, I would take vp any hus- 
band, almofl vpon any trufl. Though Subtilty would fay 
to me, (I know) hee is a foole, and has an eflate, and I 
15 might gouerne him, and enioy a friend, befide. But thefe 
are not my aymes, I mufl haue a husband I mufl loue, or 
I cannot Hue with him. I fhall ill make one of thefe 
politique wiues! 
[56] WiN-w. Why, if you can like either of vs, Lady, fay, 
20 which is he, and the other fhall fweare inflantly to defifl. 
QvA. Content, I accord to that willingly. 
Gra. Sure you thinke mea^voman of an extreme leuity. 
Gentlemen, or a flrange fancy, that (meeting you by chance 
in fuch a place, as this, both at one inllant, and not yet of 
25 two hours acquaintance, neither of you deferuing afore 
the other, of me) I fhould fo forfake my modefly (though 

I Here begins Scefie II in G. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 87 

I might afifedl one more particularly) as to fay, This is he, 
and name him. 

QvA. Why, wherefore fhould you not ? What fliould 
hinder you ? 

Gra. If you would not giue it to my modefly, allow 5 
it yet to my wit; giue me fo much of woman, and cun- 
ning, as not to betray my felfe impertinently. How can I 
iudge of you, fo farre as to a choyfe, without knowing 
you more ? you are both equall, and alike to mee, yet: 
and fo indifferently affected by mee, as each of you might 10 
be the man, if the other were away. For you are reafon- 
able creatures, you haue vnderflanding, and difcourfe. And 
if fate fend me an vnderflanding husband, I haue no feare 
at all, but mine owne manners fhall make him a good one. 

QvAR. Would I were put forth to making for you, then. 15 

Gra. It may be you are, you know not what's toward 
you: will you confent to a motion of mine, Gentlemen ? 

WiNW. What euer it be, we'll prefume reafonableneffe, 
comming from you. 

OvAR. And fitneffe, too. 20 

Gra. I faw one of you buy a paire of tables, e'en now. 

WiN-w. Yes, heere they be, and maiden ones too, vn- 
written in. 

Gra. The fitter for what they may be imployed in. 
You fhall write either of you, heere, a word, or a name, 25 
what you like befl; but of two, or three fyllables at mofl: 
and the next perfon that comes this way (becaufe Dejliny 
has a high hand in bufmeffe of this nature) I'le demand, 
which of the two words, he, or flie doth approue; 
and according to that fentence, fixe my refolution, and 30 
affe6lion, without change. 

Qvar. Agreed, my word is conceiued already. 

WiN-w. And mine fhall not be long creating after. 

Gra. But you fhall promife. Gentlemen, not to be 
curious to know, which of you it is, taken; but giue me 35 
leaue to conceale that till you haue brought me, either 
home, or where I may fafely tender my felfe. 



88 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

WiN-w Why that's but equall. 
QvAR. Wee are pleas'd. 

Gra. Becaufe I will bind both your indeauours to work 
together, friendly, and ioyntly, each to the others fortune, 
5 and haue my felfe fitted with fome meanes, to make him 
that is forfaken, a part of amends. 
[57] QvAR. Thefe conditions are very curteous. Well my 
word is out of the Arcadia^ then: Argahis. 
WiN-w, And mine out of the play, Palemon. 

[Trouble-all comes again, 
10 Tro. Haue you any warrant for this, Gentlemen ? 
QvAR. WiN-w. Ha! 

Tro. There mull be a warrant had, beleeue it. 
WiN-w. For what ? 

Tro. For whatfoeuer it is, any thing indeede, no mat- 
15 ter what. 

QvA. S'light, here's a fine ragged Prophet, dropt downe 
'i the nicke! 

Tro. Heauen quit you, Gentlemen. 
QvA. Nay, flay a little, good Lady, put him to the 
20 quellion. 

Gra. You are content, then ? 
WiN-w. QvAR. Yes yes. 
Gra. Sir, heere are two names written — 
Tro. Is ludice Ouerdoo, one ? 
25 Gra. How, Sir? I pray you read 'hem to your felfe, 
it is for a wager betweene thefe Gentlemen, and with a 
flroake or any difference, marke which you approue bed. 
Tro. They may be both worfhipfull names for ought I 
know, Miflreffe, but Adam Ouerdoo had beene worth three 
30 of 'hem, I affure you, in this place, that's in plaine englifh. 
Gra. This man amazes mee! I pray you, like one of 
'hem, Sir. 

Tro. I doe like him there, that has the befl warrant, 
Miflreffe, to faue your longing, and (multiply him) It may 

19 little,] little: i6g2, jjib, W, G 
24 ludice] Justice i6g2, 17 16, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 89 

be this. But I am I flill for lujlice Ouerdoo^ that's my con- 
fcience. And quit you. 

WiN-w. Is't done, Lady ? 

Gra. I, and ftrangely, as euer I faw! What fellow is 
this trow ? 5 

Ova. No matter what, a Fortune-teller w'ee ha'made 
him. Which is't, which is't. 

Gra. Nay, did you not promife, not to enquire ? 

QvA. S'lid, I forgot that, pray you pardon mee. Looke, 
here's our J/.?;r/^/7 come: The Licence arriues i'the finefl 10 
time, too! 'tis but fcraping out Cokes his name, and 'tis 
done. 

WiN-w. How now lime-twig? haft, thou touch'd. 

Edg. Not yet. Sir, except you would goe with mee, 
and fee't, it's not worth fpeaking on. The a6l is nothing, 15 
without a witneffe. Yonder he is, your man with the boxe 
falne into the fineft. company, and fo tranfported with 
vapours, that they ha'got in a Northren Clothier, and one 
Puppy., a Weft.erne man, that's come to wn-aft.le before my 
Lord Maior, anone, and Captaine IVhit, and one Val Cut- 20 
ting, that helpes Captaine Jordan to roare, a circling boy : 
with whom your Nunips, is fo taken, that you may flrip 
him of his cloathes, if you will. I'le vndertake to geld him 
for you; if you had but a Surgeon, ready, to feare him. 
And Mift.reffe luftice, there, is the goodefl woman! fhee [5°] 
do's fo loue 'hem all ouer, in termes of luflice, and the 
Stile of authority, with her hood vpright — that I befeech 
you come away Gentlemen, and fee't. 

QvAR. S'light, I would not lofe it iox\h.Q, Fayre, what'U 
you doe, Ned'^. 3° 

WiN-w. Why, ft.ay heere about for you, Miflreffe Wel- 
borne mull not be feene. 

QvA. Doe fo, and find out a Priell i'the meane time, 
I'le bring the Licenfe. Lead, which way is't ? 

Edg. Here, Sir, you are o'the backefide o'the Booth 35 
already, you may heare the noife. 

I am I flill] am still idgs, 1716, IV, G 
35 backefide] back W, G 



9° Bartholmevv Fayre. 



Act. IIIJ. Scene. IV. 

Knockhvm. Nordern. Pvppy. Cvt- 

TiNG. Whit. Edgvvorth. Ovarlovs. 

OvERDOO. Waspe. Bristle. 

TXT'iT'//, bid Vail Cutting continue the vapours for a lift, 
^ ^ Whit, for a lift. 
Nor. rie ne mare, I'le ne mare, the eale's too meeghty. 
Kno. How now! my Galloway Nag, the flaggers ? ha! 
5 Whit, gi'him a flit i'the fore-head. Cheare vp, man, a 
needle, and threed to flitch his eares. I'ld cure him now 
an' I had it, with a little butter, and garlike, long-pepper, 
and graines. Where's my home ? I'le gi'him a mafh, 
prefently, fhall take away this dizzineffe. 
lo Pvp. Why, where are you zurs ? doe you vlinch, and 
leaue vs i'the zuds, now ? 

Nor. I'le ne mare, I'is e'en as vull as a Paipers bag, 
by my troth, I. 

Pvp. Doe my Northerne cloth zhrinke i'the wetting ? ha ? 
15 Kno. Why, well faid, old Flea-bitten, thou'lt neuer 
tyre, I fee. \^T hey fall to their vapours, againe. 

CvT. No, Sir, but he may tire, if it pleafe him. 
Whi. Who told dee fho ? that he vuld neuer teer, man ? 
CvT. No matter who told him fo, fo long as he knowes. 
20 Kno. Nay, I know nothing. Sir, pardon me there. 
Edg. They are at it fl.il. Sir, this they call vapours. 
Whi. He fliall not pardon dee, Captaine, dou fhalt not 
be pardon'd. Pre'de fhweete heart doe not pardon him. 
CvT. S'light, I'le pardon him, an' I lifl, whofoeuer 
25 faies nay to't. 
[59] \_Here they continue their game of vz.'pouxs, which /j nonfenfe. Euery 
7nan to oppofe the lafl man that fpoke : whethe it concern d him, or no. 

Scenes IV, V, and part of VI, constitute in G Scene III. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 91 

QvAR. Where's Numps ? I miffe him. 

Was. Why, I fay nay to't. 

QvAR. O there he is! 

Kno. To what doe you fay nay, Sir ? 

Was. To any thing, whatfoeuer it is, fo long as I do 5 
not like it. 

Whi. Pardon me, little man, dou mufht like it a little. 

CvT. No, hee mufl not like it at all, Sir, there you are 
i'the wrong. 

Whi. I tinke I be, he mufht not like it, indeede. 10 

CvT. Nay, then he both mufl, and will like it. Sir, for 
all you. 

Kno. If he haue reafon, he may like it, Sir. 

Whi. By no meanfli Captaine, vpon reafon, he may 
like nothing vpon reafon. 15 

Was. T haue no reafon, nor I will heare of no reafon, 
nor I will looke for no reafon, and he is an Affe, that either 
knowes any, or lookes for't from me. 

CvT. Yes, in fome fenfe you may haue reafon. Sir. 

Was. I, in fome fenfe, I care not if I grant you. 20 

Whi. Pardon mee, thou ougflit to grant him nothing, 
in no fhenfh, if dou doe loue dy fhelfe, angry man. 

Was. Why then, I doe grant him nothing; and I haue 
no fenfe. 

CvT. 'Tis true, thou hafl no fenfe indeed. 25 

Was. S'lid, but I haue fenfe, now I thinke on't better, 
and I will grant him any thing, doe you fee ? 

Kno. He is i'the right, and do's vtter a fufficient vapour. 

CvT. Nay, it is no fufficient vapour, neither, I deny that. 

Kno. Then it is a fweet vapour. 30 

CvT. It may be a fweet vapour. 

Was. Nay, it is no fweet vapour, neither, Sir, it flinkes, 
and rie Hand to't. 

Whi. Yes, I tinke it dofli fhtinke, Captaine. All vapour 
dofh fhtinke. . 35 

Was. Nay, then it do's not flinke, Sir, and it fliall not 
flinke. 



92 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

CvT. By your leaue, it may, Sir. 
Was. I, by my leaue, it may flinke, I know that. 
Whi. Pardon me, thou knowefht nothing, it cannot by 
thy leaue, angry man. 
5 Was. How can it not ? 

Kno. Nay, neuer queflion him, for he is i'the right. 
Whi. Yefh, I am i'de right, I confelh it, so ifh de little 
man too. 

Was. rie haue nothing confefl, that concernes mee. I 
lo am not i'the right, nor neuer was i'the right, nor neuer 
will be i'the right, while I am in my right minde, 

CvT. Minde ? why, heere's no man mindes you, Sir, 
nor any thing elfe. [T/n'y drinke againe. 

[60] Pvp. Vreind, will you mind this that wee doe ? 

15 QvA. Call you this vapours ? this is fuch beltching of 
quarrell, as I neuer heard. Will you minde your bufmeffe, 
Sir? 

Edg. You fhall fee, Sir. 

Nor. rie ne maire, my waimb warkes too mickle with 
20 this auready. 

Edg. Will you take that, Mafler IVafpe, that no body 
(hould minde you ? 

Was. Why ? what ha'you to doe ? is't any matter to you ? 
Edg. No, but me thinks you fhould not be vnminded, 
25 though, 

Was. Nor, I wu'not be, now I thinke on't, doe you 

heare, new acquaintance, do's no man mind me, fay you ? 

CvT. Yes, Sir, euery man heere mindes you, but how ? 

Was, Nay, I care as little how, as you doe, that was 

20 not my queflion. 

Whi. No, noting was ty queflion, tou art a learned 
man, and I am a valiant man, i'faith la, tou fhalt fpeake 
for mee, and I vill fight for tee. 

Kno. Fight for him, Whit ? A groffe vapour, hee can 
32 fight for himfelfe. 

Was. It may be I can, but it may be, I wu'not, how 
then ? 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 93 

CvT. Why, then you may chufe. 

Was. Why, and I'le chufe whether I'le chufe or no. 

Kno. I thinke you may, and 'tis true; and I allow it for 
a refolute vapour. 

Was. Nay, then, I doe thinke you doe not thinke, and 5 
it is no refolute vapour. 

CvT. Yes, in fome fort he may allow you. 

Kno. In no fort, Sir, pardon me, I can allow him 
nothing. You miflake the vapour. 

Was. He miflakes nothing. Sir, in no fort. 10 

Whi. Yes, I pre dee now, let him miflake. 

Was. a turd i'your teeth, neuer pre dee mee, for I will 
haue nothing miflaken. 

Kno. Turd, ha turd? a noyfome vapour, flrike IV/iit. 

[ They fall by the eares. 

OvE. Why, Gentlemen, why Gentlemen, I charge you 15 
vpon my authority, conferue the peace. In the Kings 
name, and my Husbands, put vp your weapons, I Ihall be 
driuen to commit you my felfe, elfe. 

QvA. Ha, ha, ha. 

Was. Why doe you laugh. Sir ? 20 

QvA. Sir, you'll allow mee my chriflian liberty. I may 
laugh, I hope. 

CvT. In fome fort you may, and in fome fort you may 
not, Sir. 

Kno. Nay in fome fort. Sir, hee may neither laugh, 25 
nor hope, in this company. 

Was. Yes, then he may both laugh, and hope in any [61] 
fort, an't pleafe him. 

QvA. Faith, and I will then, for it doth pleafe mee 
exceedingly. 30 

Was. No exceeding neither. Sir. 

Kno.- No, that vapour is too lofty. 

QvA. Gentlemen, I doe not play well at your game of 
vapours, I am not very good at it, but — 

2 and I'le chufe whether I'le chufe] then I'll choose whether I 
choose G 



94 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

CvT. Doe you heare, Sir ? I would fpeake with you 

in circle ? \^Hee drawes a circle on the ground. 

QvA. In circle, Sir ? what would you with me in circle ? 
CvT. Can you lend me a Piece, a lacobusl in circle ? 
5 QvA. S'lid, your circle will proue more coflly then 
your vapours, then. Sir, no, I lend you none. 
CvT. Your beard's not well turn'd vp. Sir. 
QvA. How Rafcall ? are you playing with my beard ? 

rie breake circle with you. {They draw all, and fight. 

lo Pvp. Nor. Gentlemen, Gentlemen! 

Kno. Gather vp, Whit., gather vp, Whit., good vapours. 
OvE. What meane you ? are you Rebells ? Gentle- 
men ? fliall I fend out a Serieant at Armes, or a Writ 
o'Rebellion, againfl you ? I'le commit you vpon my 
15 woman-hood, for a Riot, vpon my luflice-hood, if you 
perfifl. 

Was. Vpon yovir luflice-hood ? Mary fhite o'your 
hood, you'll commit ? Spoke like a true luflice of peace's 
wife, indeed, and a fine female Lawyer! turd i'your teeth 
20 for a fee, now. 

Over. Why, Numps, in Mailer Ouerdoo's name, I charge 
you. 

Was. Good Miflreffe Vnderdoo hold your tongne. 
Over. Alas! ^oox^ Numps. 
25 Was. Alas! and why alas from you, I befeech you ? 
or why poore Ntrmps, goody Rich ? am I come to be pittied 
by your tuft taffata now ? why Miflreffe, I knew Adam, 
the Gierke, your husband, when he was Adam Scriuener, 
and writ for two pence a fheet, as high as he beares his 
30 head now, or you your hood, Dame. [The watch comes in.'] 
What are you, Sir ? 

Bri. Wee be men, and no Infidells; what is the matter, 
here, and the noyfes ? can you tell ? 

Was. Heart, what ha'you to doe ? cannot a man 
35 quarrell in quietneffe ? but hee mufl be put out on't by 
you ? what are you ? 

Bri. Why, wee be his Maieflies Watch, Sir. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 95 

Was. Watch ? S 'blood, you are a fweet watch, indeede. 
A body would thinke, and you watch'd well a nights, you 
fhould be contented to lleepe at this time a day. Get you 
to your fleas, and your flocke-beds, you Rogues, your 
kennells, and lye downe clofe. 5 

Bri. Downe ? yes, we will downe, I warrant you, 
downe with him in his Maieflies name, downe, downe 
with him, and carry him away, to the pigeon-holes. 

OvE. I thanke you honefl friends, in the behalfe o'the (■52] 
Crowne, and the peace, and in Mailer Ouerdoo's name, for 10 
fuppreffing enormities. 

Whi. Stay, Brijlle, heere ifh a noderbrafh o'drunkards, 
but very quiet, fpeciall drunkards, will pay dee, fiue fhil- 
lings very well. Take 'hem to dee, in de graifli o'God: 
one of hem do's change cloth, for Ale in the Fayre, here, 15 
te toder ifh a flrong man, a mighty man, my Lord Mayors 
man, and a wraftler. Hee has wrafhled fo long with the 
bottle, heere, that the man with the beard, hafli almofht 
flreeke vp hifh heelfh. 

Bri. S'lid, the Gierke o'the Market, has beene to cry 20 
him all the Fayre ouer, here, for my Lords feruice. 

Whi. Tere he ifh, pre de talk him henfh, and make ty 
beft on him. How now woman o'fliilke, vat ailfh ty 
fhweet faifh ? art tou melancholy ? 

OvE. A little dillemper'd with thefe enormities; fhall 35 
I intreat a curtefie of you, Captaine ? 

Whi. Intreat a hundred, veluet voman, I vill doe it, 
fhpeake out. 

OvE. I cannot with modelly fpeake it out, but — 

Whi. I vill doe it, and more, and more, for dee. What 30 
Vrfla, and't be bitch, and't be baud and't be! 

Vrs. How now Rafcall? what roare you for? old 
Pimpe. 

Whi. Heere, put vp de cloakes VrJJi\ de purchafe, pre 
dee now, fhweet VrJJi, help dis good braue voman, to a 35 
Jordan, and't be. • 

34 purchafe] purchase ; 77/6, W: purchase. G 



96 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Vrs. S'lid call your Captaine Jordan to her, can you 
not ? 

Whi. Nay, pre dee leaue dy confheits, and bring the 
veluet woman to de — 
5 Vrs. I bring her, hang her: heart mufl I find a com- 
mon pot for euery punque i'your purlews ? 

Whi. O good voordfh, VrJJi^ it ifh a guell o'veluet, 
i'fait la. 

Vrs. Let her fell her hood, and buy a fpunge, with a 

10 poxe to her, my veffell, employed Sir. I haue but one, 

and 'tis the bottome of an old bottle. An honell Pro6lor, 

and his wife, are at it, within, if fliee'll flay her time, fo. 

Whi. As foone afh tou canfht fhwet VrJJi. Of a valiant 

man I tinke I am the patientfh man i'the world, or in all 

1 5 Smithfield. 

Kno. How now Whit ? clofe vapours, flealing your 
leaps ? couering in corners, ha ? 

Whi. No fait, Captaine, dough tou beefht a vifhe man, 
dy vit is a mile hence, now. I vas procuring a flimall 
20 courtefie, for a woman of falhion here. 

OvE. Yes, Captaine, though I am luflice of peace's 
wife, I doe loue Men of warre, and the Sonnes of the 
fword, when they come before my husband. 

Kno. Say'fl thou fo Filly ? thou (halt haue a leape 
25 prefently, I'le horfe thee my felfe, elfe. 
[63] Vrs. Come, will you bring her in now ? and let her 
talke her turne ? 

Whi. Gramercy good VrJJi^ I tanke dee. 
Over. Mafler Ouerdoo fhall thanke her. 

10 my Vessel is employed i6g2, 1716, W, G 
21 I am luftice] I am a justice G 27 talke] take 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 97 



Act. nil. Scene. V. 

loHN. Win. Vrsla. Knockhvm. 
Whit. Overdoo. Ales.^ 

/'^ ood Ga'mere Vrs; Win, and I, are exceedingly beholden 
to you, and to Captaine Jordan, and Captaine Whit. 
Win, rie be bold to leaue you, i'this good company. Win: 
for halfe an houre, or fo Win, while I goe, and fee how 
my matter goes forward, and if the Puppets be perfe6l: 5 
and then I'le come & fetch you, Win. 

Win. Will you leaue me alone with two men, John ? 

loH. I, they are honeft Gentlmen Win, Captaine Jor- 
dan, and Captaine Whit, they'll vfe you very ciuilly, JVin, 
God b'w'you, Win. lo 

Vrs. What's her husband gone ? 

Kno. On his falfe, gallop, Vrs, away. 

Vrs. An' you be right Bartholtnew-hirds, now fhew your 
felues fo : we are vndone for want of fowle i'the Fayre, 
here. Here will be Zekiell Edgworth, and three or foure 15 
gallants, with him at night, and I ha'neither Plouer nor 
Quaile for 'hem : perfwade this betweene you two, to 
become a Bird o'the game, while I worke the veluet 
woman, Avithin, (as you call her.) 

Kno. I conceiue thee, Vrs\ goe thy waies, doefl thou 20 
heare, Whit? is't not pitty, my delicate darke chellnut here, 
with the fine leane head, large fore-head, round eyes, euen 
mouth, fharpe eares, long necke, thinne crefl, clofe withers, 
plaine backe, deepe fides, fliort fillets, and full flankes : 
with a round belly, a plumpe buttocke, large thighes, knit 25 
knees, llreight legges, fhort pafi.ernes, fmooth hoofes, and 

'Ales] Alice i6g2, 17 16, W 
12 Comma after falfe om. i6g2, 1716, W, G 



98 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

fhort heeles; fhould lead a dull honefl womans life, that 
might liue the life of a Lady ? 

Whi. Yes, by my fait, and trot, it is, Captaine : de 
honefht womans life is a fcuruy dull life, indeed, la. 
5 Win. How, Sir ? is an honefl womans life a fcuruy 
life? 

Whi. Yes fait, fhweet heart, beleeue him, de leefe of 
a Bond-woman! but if dou vilt harken to me, I vill make 
tee a free-woman, and a Lady: dou flialt liue like a Lady, 
10 as te Captaine faifh. 

Kno. I, and be honefl too fometimes: haue her wiers, 
[64] and her tires, her greene gownes, and veluet petticoates. 

Whi. I, and ride to Ware and Rttmford i'dy Coafli, fhee 
de Players, be in loue vit 'hem; fup vit gallantfh, be 
15 drunke, and cofl de noting. 
Kno. Braue vapours! 

Whi. And lye by twenty on 'hem, if dou pleafh fhweet 
heart. 

Win. What, and be honefl flill, that were fine fport. 
20 Whi. Tifh common, fhweet heart, tou may'fl doe it by 
my hand: it fhall be iuflified to ty husbands faifh, now: 
tou fhalt be as honefht as the skinne betweene his hornfh, la ! 
Kno. Yes, and weare a dreffmg, top, and top-gallant, 
to compare with ere a husband on 'hem all, for a fore-top : 
25 it is the vapour of fpirit in the wife, to cuckold, now 
adaies; as it is the vapour of fafhion, in the husband, not 
to fufpe6l. Your prying cat-eyed-citizen, is an abomina- 
ble vapour. 

Win. Lord, what a f oole haue I beene ! 
30 Whi. Mend then, and doe euery ting like a Lady, 
heereafter, neuer know ty husband, from another man. 
Kno. Nor any one man from another, but i'the darke. 
Whi. I, and then it ifh no difhgrafh to know any man. 
Vrs. Helpe, helpe here. 
35 Kno. How now ? what vapour's there ? 

Vrs. O, you are a fweet Ranger\ and looke well to 
your walks. Yonder is your Pimque of Turnbull, Ramping 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 99 

Ales, has falne vpon the poore Gentlewoman within, and 
pull'd her hood ouer her eares, and her hayre through it. 

[Alice end's, beating he lujlice s wife. 

OvE. Helpe, helpe, i'the Kings name. 

Ale. a mifchiefe on you, they are fuch as you are, that 
vndoe vs, and take our trade from vs, with your tuft-taffata 5 
hanches. 

Kno. How now Alice\ 

Ale. The poore common whores can ha'no traffique, 
for the priuy rich ones ; your caps and hoods of veluet, 
call away our cuflomers, and lick the fat from vs. 10 

Vrs. Peace you foule ramping lade, you — 

Ale. Od's foote, you Bawd in greace, are you talking ? 

Kno. Why, Alice, I fay. 

Ale. Thou Sow of Smithficld, thou. 

Vrs. Thou tripe of Turnebull. 15 

Kno. Cat-a-mountaine- vapours! ha! 

Vrs. You know where you were taw'd lately, both 
lafli'd, and flafh'd you were in Bridewell. 

Ale. I, by the fame token, you rid that weeke, and 
broake out the bottome o'the Cart, Night-tub. 20 

Kno. Why, Lyon face! ha! doe you know who I am ? 
Ihall I teare ruffe, flit waflcoat, make ragges of petticoat ? 
ha! goe to, vanifla, for feare of vapours. Whit, a kick, 
Whit, in the parting vapour. Come braue woman, take a 
good heart, thou flialt be a Lady, too. 25 

Whl Yes fait, dey flial all both be Ladies, and write [65] 
Madame. I vill do't my felfe for dem. Doe, is the vord, 
and D is the middle letter of Madame, DD, put 'hem 
together, and make deeds, without which, all words are 
alike, la. 30 

Kno. 'Tis true, Vrjla, take 'hem in, open thy wardrope, 
and fit 'hem to their calling. Greene-gownes, Crimfon- 
petticoats, green women! my Lord Maiors green women! 
gviefls o'the Game, true bred. I'le prouide you a Coach, 
to take the ayre, in. 35 

I Alice i6g2, 1716, W, G 



^Of(S 



loo Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Win. But doe you thinke you can get one ? 

Kno. O, they are as common as wheelebarrowes, where 
there are great dunghills. Euery Pettifoggers wife, has 
'hem, for first he buyes a Coach, that he may marry, and 
then hee marries that hee may be made Cuckold in't: For 
if their wiues ride not to their Cuckolding, they doe 'hem 
no credit. Hide, and be hidden; ride, and be ridden, 
fayes the vapour of experience. 



Act. IIIJ. Scene. VI. 

Troble-all. Knockhvm. Whit. 

QvARLovs. Edgvvorth. Bristle. 

Waspe. Haggise. Ivstice. 

BvsY. Pvre-craft. 

"D Y what warrant do's it fay fo ? 
lo Kno. Ha! mad child o'the Pye-pouldres^ art thou 

there ? fill vs a frefh kan, Vrf^ wee may drinke together. 
Tro. I may not drinke without a warrant, Captaine. 
Kno. S'lood, thou'll not flale without a warrant, fhortly. 
Whit^ Giue mee pen, inke and paper. Fl draw him a war- 
15 rant prefently. 

Tro. It mufl be lujlice Ouerdoo's ? 
Kno. I know, man, Fetch the drinke, Whit. 
VVhi. I pre dee now, be very briefe, Captaine; f or de 
new Ladies flay for dee. 
20 Kno. O, as briefe as can be, here 'tis already. Adam 
Oiicrdoo. 

Tro. Why, now, Fie pledge you, Captaine. 

Kno. Drinke it off. Fll come to thee, anone, againe. 

2 are as common] are common W, G 
16 Ouerdoo's followed by a period lyjb, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. ioi 

QvA. [Ouarlous to the Cutpnr/e.] Well, Sir. You are now 
difcharg'd: beware of being fpi'd, hereafter. 

Edg. Sir, will it pleafe you, enter in here, at Vr/las; 
and take part of a filken gowne, a veluet petticoate, or a [66] 
wrought fmocke; I am promifd fuch: and I can fpare any 5 
Gentleman a moity. 

QvA. Keepe it for your companions in beafllineffe, I 
am none of 'hem, Sir. If I had not already forgiuen you 
a greater trefpaffe, or thought you yet worth my beating, 
I would inflru(5l your manners, to whom you made your lo 
offers. But goe your wayes, talke not to me, the hang- 
man is onely fit to difcourfe with you ; the hand of Beadle 
is too mercifull a punifhment for your Trade of life. I am 
forry I employ 'd this fellow; for he thinks me fuch: Fa- 
cinus quos inquinat^ cequat. Bnt, it was for fport. And 15 
would I make it ferious, the getting of this Licence is 
nothing to me, without other circumflances concurre. I 
do thinke how impertinently I labour, if the word bee not 
mine, that the ragged fellow mark'd: And what aduan- 
tage I haue giuen Ned Win-wife in this time now, of work- 20 
ing her, though it be mine. Hee'll go neare to forme to 
her what a debauch'd Rafcall I am, and fright her out of 
all good conceipt of me: I fliould doe fo by him, I am 
fure, if I had the opportunity. But my hope is in her 
temper, yet; and it muft. needs bee next to defpaire, that is 25 
grounded on any part of a woman's difcretion. I would 
giue by my troth, now, all I could fpare (to my cloathes, and 
my fword) to meete my \.?LX.\.ev' d footh-fayer againe, who was 
my iudge i'rhe queflion, to know certainly whofe word he 
has damn'd or fau'd. For, till then, I Hue but vnder a 30 
Repreiue. I mufl feeke him. Who be thefe ? 

\^Ent. Waspe with the officers. 

Was. Sir, you areawelfh Cuckold, and a prating Runt, 
and no Conflable. 

Bri. You fay very well. Come put in his legge in the 
middle roundell, and let him hole there. 35 

I Scene IV begins here, and includes the remainder of Act IV in C. 
5 any Gentleman] a gentleman G 



I02 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Was. You ilinke of leeks, Metheglyn, and cheefe. You 
Rogue. 

Bri. Why, what is that to you, if you fit fweetly in the 
flocks in the meane time ? if you haue a minde to flinke 
5 too, your breeches fit clofe enough to your bumni. Sit 
you merry. Sir. 

QvA How now, Numps ? 

Was. It is no matter, how; pray you looke off. 

QvA. Nay I'll not offend you, Numps. I thought you 
lo had fate there to be feen. 

Was. And to be fold, did you not ? pray you mind 
your bufineffe, an' you haue any. 

QvA. Cry you mercy, Numps. Do's your leg lie high 
enough ? 
15 Bri. How now, neighbour Haggife, what fayes lujlice 
Ouerdos worfliip, to the other offenders ? 

Hag. Why, hee fayes iufl nothing, what fhould hee 
fay ? Or where fliould he fay ? He is not to be found, 
Man. He ha'not been feen i'the Fayre, here, all this liue- 
20 long day, neuer fince feuen a clocke i'the morning. His 
Clearks know not what to thinke on't. There is no Court 
of Piepoulders yet. Heere they be return'd. 

Bri. What fhall be done with 'hem, then ? in your dif- 
cretion ? 
[67] Hag. I thinke wee Avere befl put 'hem in the flocks, 
in difcretion (there they will be fafe in difcretion) for 
the valour of an houre, or fuch a thing, till his worfliip 
come. 

Bri It is but a hole matter, if wee doe, Neighbour 
30 Haggife, come. Sir, heere is company for you, heaue vp 

the flocks. \^As they open the Jlockes, '^z.i-^Gputs his JJiooe on his hand, 

andjlips it in for his legge. 

Was. I fhall put a tricke vpon your welfli diligence, 
perhaps. 

Bri. Put in your legge, Sir. 

30 Haggi/e followed by a semicolon jy 16, W, G . . . yon followed 
by a semicolon 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 103 

QvA. What, Rabby Bufy ! is hee come ? 

\^They bring Bufy, and put him in. 

Bvs. I doe obey thee, the Lyon may roare, but he can- 
not bite. I am glad to be thus feparated from the heathen 
of the land, and put apart in the flocks, for the holy caufe. 

Was. What are you. Sir ? 5 

Bvs, One that reioyceth in his affliction, and fitteth 
here to prophefie, the deflru6lion of Fay res 2lX\^ May-games, 
Wakes, and Whitfon-ales, and doth figh and groane for the 
reformation, of thefe abufes. 

Was. And doe you figh, and groane too, or reioyce in 10 
your affli<5lion ? 

Ivs. I doe not feele it, I doe not thinke of it, it is a 
thing without mee. Adam, thou art aboue thefe battries, 
thefe contumelies. /// te mama ruit fortuna, as thy friend 
Horace i^^Qs; thou art one, Quem iieque pauperies,neque mors, 15 
neqiie vincula terrent,. And therefore as another friend of 
thine faies, (I thinke it be thy friend Perfius) Non te quceftue- 
ris extra. 

Ova. What's heere? a Stoick i'the flocks ? the Foole 
is turn'd Philofopher. 20 

Bvs. Friend, I will leaue to communicate my fpirit 
with you, if Hieare any more of thofe fuperflitious reliques, 
thofe lifts of Latin, the very rags of Rome, and patches of 
Popcrie. 

Was. Nay, an' you begin to quarrel, Gentlemen, I'll 25 
leaue you. I ha'paid for quarrelling too lately : lookeyou, 
adeuice, but fliifting in ahandfor afoot. {^He gets out.'\ God 
b'w'you. 

Bvs. Wilt thou then leaue thy brethren in tribulation? 

Was. For this once. Sir. 30 

Bvs. Thou art a halting Neutrall ftay him there, ftop 
him: that will not endure the heat of perfecution. 

Bri. How now, what's the matter? 

Bvs. Hee is fled, he is fled, and dares not fit it out. 

Bri. What, has he made an efcape, which way ? follow, 35 
neighbour Haggife. 



I04 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

PvR. O me! in the flocks ! haue the wicked preuail'd ? 
Bvs. Peace religious filler, it is my calling, comfort 
your felfe, an extraordinary calling, and done for my bet- 
ter Handing, my furer flanding, hereafter. 

[ The mad-man enters. 
5 Tro. By whofe warrant, by whofe warrant, this ? 
QvA. O, here's my man! dropt in, I look'd for. 
[68] Ivs. Ha! 

PvR. O good Sir, they haue fet the faithfull, here to be 

wonder'd at; and prouided holes, for the holy of the land. 

lo Tro. Had they warrant for it ? fhew'd they lujlicce 

Oieerdoo's hand ? if they had no warrant, they fhall anfwer it. 

Bri. Sure you did not locke the flocks fufficiently, 

neighbour Toby ! 

Hag. No! fee if you can lock 'hem better. 
ig Bri. They are very fufficiently lock'd, and truely, yet 
fome thing is in the mater. 

Tro. True, your warrant is the matter that is in 
quellion, by what warrant ? 

Bri. Mad man, hold your peace, I will put you in his 
20 roome elfe, in the very fame hole, doe you fee ? 
Ova. How! is hee a mad-man! 

Tro. Shew me Iiijlice Ouerdoos warrant. I obey you. 
Hag. You are a mad foole, hold your tongue. 
Tro. In lujlice Ouerdoo's name, [Shewes Ms Kanne.'] I drinke 
25 to you, and here's my warrant. 

Ivs. Alas poore wretch ! how it earnes my heart for him ! 

Qva. If hee be mad, it is in vaine to queflion him. I'le 

try though, friend : there was a Gentlewoman, fhew'd you 

two names, fome houre fince, Argalus and Fale?non, to 

30 marke in a booke, which of 'hem was it you mark'd? 

Tro. I marke no name, but Adam Ouerdoo, that is the 
name of names, hee onely is thefufficient Magillrate; and 
that name I reuerence, fhew it mee. 

26 earnes] yearns W, G 

28 try though,] try though. i6g2, jyi6, W : try him though. — G 

29 houre] hours 1716, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 105 

Ova. This fellowes madde indeede: I am further off, 
now, then afore. 

Ivs. I fliall not breath in peace, till I haue made him 
fome amends. 

QvA. Well, I will make another vfe of him, is come in 5 
my head: I haue a nefl of beards in my Truncke, one fome 
thing like his. \The watchmen cojne back againe. 

Bri. This mad foole has made mee that I know not 
whether I I haue lock'd the flocks or no, I thinke I lock'd 
'hem. 10 

Tro. Take Adam .Oucrdoo in your minde, and feare 
nothing. 

Bri, S'lid, madneffe it felfe, hold thy peace, and take 
that. 

Tro. Strikefl thou without a warrant? take thou that. 15 
\^The mad-man fights with 'hem, and they leaue open thejlocks. 

Bvs. Wee are deliuered by miracle; fellow in fetters, 
let vs not refufe the meanes, this madneffe was of the 
fpirit: The malice of the enemy hath mock'd it felfe. 

PvR. Mad doe they call him! the world is mad in 
error, but hee is mad in truth: I loue him o'the fudden, 20 
(the cunning man fayd all true) and (hall loue him more, 
and more. How well it becomes a man to be mad in 
truth! O, that I might be his yoake-fellow, and be mad 
with him, what a many fhould wee draw to madneffe in [69] 

truth, with vs! \^The watch mi/sing them are affrighted. 25 

Bri. How now! all fcap'd ? where's the zvotnani it is 
witchcraft! Her veluet hat is a witch, o'my confcience, 
or my key! t'one. The mad-man was a Diuell, and I am 
an Affe; fo bleffe me, my place, and mine office. 



io6 Bartholmevv Fayre. 



Act. v. Scene. I. 
Lanthorne. Filcher. Sharkvvel. 

WEll, Lucke and Saint Bartholmew; out with the 
figne of our inuention, in the name of Wit, 
and do you beat the Drum, the while; All the 
fowle i'the Fayre, I meane, all the dirt in Smith- 
5 field, (that's one of Mafler Littlewifs Carwhitchets now) will 
be throwne at our Banner to day, if the matter do's not 
pleafe the people. O the Motions, that I Lanthorne Leather- 
head haue giuen light to, i'my time, fmce my Mafler Pod 
dyed! \^oA was a Majier of motions before him. 1 Lerufalem was 
10 a flately thing ; and fo was Niniiie, and the citty of Norwich, 
and Sodom and Gomorrah; with the rifmg o'the prentifes; 
and pulling downe the bawdy houfes there, vpon Shroue- 
Titefday; but the Gmipowder-plot, there was a get-penny! 
I haue prefented that to an eighteene, or twenty pence 
15 audience, nine times in an afternoone. Your home-borne 
proie<5ls proue euer the befl, they are fo eafie, and familiar, 
they put too much learning i'their things now o'dayes: 
and that I feare will be the fpoile o'this. Little-wit 1 I 
fay, Mickle-wit\ if not too mickle! looke to your gather- 
20 ing there, good man Filcher. 
FiL, I warrant you. Sir. 

Lan. And there come any Gentlefolks, take two pence 
a piece, Sharkwell. 

Sha. I warrant you, Sir, three pence, an' we can. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 107 



Act. v. Scene. II. [70] 

IVSTICE. VVlN-WIFE. GrACE. QvAR- 
LOVS. PVRE-CRAFT. 

[ The lujlice comes hi like a Porter. 
' I ^His later difguife, I haue borrow'd of a Porter, fhall 
carry me out to all my great and good ends ; which 
how euer interrupted, were neuer deflroyed in me: neither 
is the houre of my feuerity yet come, to reueale my felfe, 
wherein cloud-like, I will breake out in raine, and haile, 5 
lightning, and thunder, vpon the head of enormity. Two 
maine works I haue to profecute: firft, one is to inuent 
fome fatisfadlion for the poore, kinde wretch, who is out 
of his wits for my fake, and yonder I fee him comming, I 
will walke afide, and proie6l for it. 10 

Win. I wonder where Tom Quarlous is, that hee returnes 
not, it may be he is flrucke in here to feeke vs. 

Gra. See, heere's our mad-man againe. 

QvA. I haue made my felfe as like him, as his gowne, 
and cap will giue me leaue. 15 

[Quarlous in the habit of the niad-man is mijlaken by M" Pure-craft. 

PvR. Sir, I loue you, and would be glad to be mad 
with you in truth. 

WiN-w. How! my widdow in loue with a mad-man ? 

PvR. Verily, I can be as mad in fpirit, as you. 

QvA. By whofe warrant ? leaue your canting. Gen- 20 
tlewoman, haue I found you ? (faue yee, quit yee, and 
multiply yee) where's your booke ? 'twas a fufficient name 
I mark'd, let me fee't, be not afraid to fhew't me. 

\^He de fires to fee the booke of Miflreffe Grace. 

Gra. What would you with it, Sir ? 

QvA. Marke it againe, and againe, at your feruice. 25 

I later] latter 77/6, \V, G 



io8 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Gra. Heere it is, Sir, this was it you mark'd. 
QvA. Palemon ? fare you well, fare you well. 
WiN-w. How, Palemon ! 

Gra. Yes faith, hee has difcouer'd it to you, now, and 
5 therefore 'twere vaine to difguife it longer, I am yours. 
Sir, by the benefit of your fortune. 

WiN-w. And you haue him Miflreffe, beleeue it, that 
fhall neuer giue you caufe to repent her benefit, but make 
you rather to thinke that in this choyce, fhe had both her 
lo eyes. 

Gra. I defire to put it to no danger of proteflation. 
QvA. Palemon, the word, and Win-wife the man ? 
[71] Pvr. Good Sir, vouchfafe a yoakefellow in your mad- 
neffe, fhun not one of the fan6lified fiflers, that would 
15 draw with you, in truth. 

QvA. Away, you are a heard of hypocriticall proud 
Ignorants, rather wilde, then mad. Fitter for woods, and 
the fociety of bealls then houfes, and the congregation of 
men. You are the fecond part of the fociety of Canters, 
20 Outlawes to order and Difcipline, and the onely priuiledg'd 
Church-robbers of Chrijlendome. Let me alone. Palefno?i, 
the word, and Wimvife the man ? 

Pvr. I mufl vncover my felfe vnto him, or I fhall 

neuer enioy him, for all the cnnning mens promifes. Good 

25 Sir, heare mee, I am worth fixe thoufand pound, my loue 

to you, is become my racke, I'll tell you all, and the 

truth: fmce you hate the hyporifie of the party-coloured 

brother-hood. Thefe feuen yeeres, I haue beene a wilfuU 

holy widdow, onely to draw feafls, and gifts from my in- 

30 tangled fuitors: I am alfo by office, an affifling fijler of 

the Deacons, and a deuourer, in Head of a diflributer of 

the alms. I am a fpeciall maker of marriages for our 

decayed Brethren, with our rich widdowes ; for a third part 

of their wealth, when they are marryed, for the reliefe of 

35 the poore ele^l: as alfo our poore handfome yong Virgins, 

with our wealthy Batchelors, or Widdowers; to make 

them fleale from their husbands, when I haue confirmed 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 109 

them in the faith, and got all put into their cuflodies. 
And if I ha'not my bargaine, they may fooner turne a 
fcolding drab, in to a filent Minijler, then make me leaue 
pronouncing reprobation, and damnation vnto them. Our 
elder, Zeale-of-the-land, would haue had me, but I know 5 
him to be the capitall Knaue of the land, making him- 
felfe rich, by being made Feoffee in trufl to deceafed Breth- 
ren, and coozning their heyres, by Avearing the abfolute 
gift of their inheritance. And thus hauing eas'd my con- 
fcience, and vtter'd my heart, with the tongue of my loue: 10 
enioy all my deceits together. I befeech you. I fliould 
not haue reuealed this to you, but that in time I thinke 
you are mad, and I hope you'll thinke mee fo too, Sir ? 

QvA. Stand afide, I'le anfwer you, prefently. \^He con- 
fider with him/elf e uf it.] Why fhould not I marry this fixe 15 
thoufand pound, now I thinke on't ? and a good trade too, 
that fliee has befide, ha ? The tother wench, Winwife, is 
fure of ; there's no expe6lation for me there ! here I may 
make my felfe fome fauer, yet, if fliee continue mad, 
there's the queflion. It is money that I want, why fhould 20 
I not marry the money, when 'tis offer'd mee ? I haue a 
Licenfe and all, it is but razing out one name, and putting 
in another. There's no playing with a man's fortune ! I 
am refolu'd ! I were truly mad, an' I would not ! well, 
come your wayes, follow mee, an' you will be mad, I'll 25 

fhew you a warrant! \^He takes her along with him. 

PvR. Mofl zealoufly, it is that I zealoufly defire. 

Ivs. Sir, let mee fpeake with you. [The luftice calls him. 

QvA. By whofe warrant ? [72] 

Ivs. The warrant that you tender, and refpe6l fo ; Iitf- 30 
tice Ouerdoo's ! I am the man, friend Trouble-all, though 
thus difguis'd (as the carefull Magijlrate ought) for the 
good of the Republique, in the Fayre, and the weeding 

7 being made Feoffee] being made a Feoffee 77/6, W, G 

15 fhould not I] should I not W, G 

17 Comma after Winwife om. i6q2, 1716, W, G 

20 fhould I not] should not I 1716, PV, G 



no Bartholmevv Fayre. 

out of enormity. Doe you want a houfe or meat, or 
drinke, or cloathes ? fpeake whatfoeuer it is, it fhall be 
fupplyed you, what want you ? 

QvA. Nothing but your 7uarrant. 
5 Ivs. My warrant ? for what ? 

QvA. To be gone. Sir. 

Ivs. Nay, I pray thee flay, I am ferious, and haue not 
many words, nor much time to exchange with thee ; 
thinke what may doe thee good. 
lo QvA. Your hand and feale, will doe me a great deale 
of good ; nothing elfe in the whole Fayre, that I knorw. 

Ivs. If it were to any end, thou fhould'fl haue it will- 
ingly. 

QvA. Why, it will fatisfie me, that's end enough, to 
15 looke on ; an' you will not gi'it mee, let me goe. 

Ivs. Alas ! thou fhalt ha'it prefently: I'll but flep into 
the Scriueners, hereby, and bring it. Doe not goe away. 

[The luii\c& goes out. 

QvA. Why, this mad mans fhape, will proue a very 

fortunate one, I thinke ! can a ragged robe produce thefe 

20 effe(5ls ? if this be the wife luflice, and he bring mee his 

hand, I fhall goe neere to make fome vfe on't. Hee is 

come already ! {and returns. 

Ivs. Looke thee ! heere is my hand and feale, Adam 

Ouerdoo, if there be any thing to be written, aboue in the 

25 paper, that thou want'll now, or at any time hereafter ; 

thinke on't ; it is my deed, I deliuer it fo, can your friend 

write ? 

QvA. Her hand for a witnejjfe, and all is well. 

Ivs. With all my heart. [Hee vrgeth Miftreffe Purecraft. 

30 QvA. Why fhould not I ha'the confcience, to make 
this a bond of a thoufand pound ? now, or what I would 
elfe? 

Ivs. Looke you, there it is ; and I deliuer it as my 
deede againe. 

24 in the paper] in that Paper 171b, W, G 
31 Interrogation point after pound om. i6g2, ijib, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. hi 

QvA. Let vs now proceed in madneffe. 

\^He takes her in with him. 

Ivs. Well, my confcience is much eas'd; I ha'done my 
part, though it doth him no good, yet Adam hath offer'd 
fatisfadlion ! The fling is remoued from hence : poore 
man, he is much alter'd with his affli6lion, it has brought 5 
him low! Now, for my other worke, reducing the young 
man (I haue follow'd fo long in loue) from the brinke of 
his bane, to the center of fafety. Here, or in fome fuch 
like vaine place, I fliall be fure to finde him, I will waite 
the good time. ' 10 



Act. V. Scene. IIJ. [73] 

Cokes. Shakrvvel. Ivstice. Fil- 

CHER. lOHN. LaNTERNE, 

"pjrOw now ? what's here to doe ? friend, art thou the 
"*■ Majler of the Monuments ? 

Sha. 'Tis a Motion^ an't pleafe your worfhip. 

Ivs. My phantaflicall brother in Law, Mafler Barthol- 
mew Cokes ! 15 

COK. A Motion^ what's that ? \^He reads the Bill.} The 
ancient moderne hiflory of Hero, and Leander, otherwife 
called The Touchjio/ie of true Loue, with as true a tryall of 
friendftiip, betweene Davw7i, and Fit/nas, two faithfull 
friends o'the Bankfide ? pretty i'faith, what's the mean- 20 
ing on't ? is't an Enterlude ? or what is't ? 

FiL. Yes Sir, pleafe you come neere, wee'll take your 
money within. 

CoK. Backe with thefe children; they doe fo follow 
mee vp and downe. {^The boyes o'the Y-a.yx^ follow him. 25 

II Scene III in G begins here, and includes the remai?tder of Act V. 



112 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

loH. By your leaue, friend. 
FiL. You mull pay, Sir, an' you goe in. 
loH. Who, I ? I perceiue thou know'ft not mee: call 
the Mafter o'the Motion. 
5 Sha What, doe you not know the Author, fellow 
Filcher ? you mufl take no money of him ; he mufl come 
in gratis: M^ Littlewit is a voluntary; he is the Author. 

loH. Peace, fpeake not too lowd, I would not haue 
any notice taken, that I am the Author, till wee fee how it 
lo paffes. 

CoK. Mailer Littlezvit, how do'fl thou ? 
loH. Mafler Cokes ! you are exceeding well met: what, 
in your doublet, and hofe, without a cloake, or a hat ? 
CoK. I would I might neuer flirre, as I am an honefl 
15 man, and by that fire; I haue loll all i'the Fayre, and all 
my acquaintance too; did'ft thou meet any body that I 
know, Mafler Littlctvit ? my man Numps, or my filler 
Ouerdoo, or Millreffe Grace ? pray thee Mailer Littlewit, 
lend mee fome money to fee the Interlude, here. I'le pay 
20 thee againe, as I am a Gentleman. If thou'lt but carry 
mee home, I haue money enough there. 

loH. O, Sir, you fhall command it, what, will a crowne 
ferue you ? 
[74] ^<^^- I think it well, what do we pay for comming in, 
25 fellowes ? 

FiL. Two pence, Sir. 

CoK. Twopence ? there's twelue pence, friend; Nay, I 
am a Gallant, as fimple as I looke now ; if you fee mee 
with my man about me, and my Artillery, againe. 
30 loH. Your man was i'the Stocks, ee'n now, Sir. 
CoK. Who, Numps ? 
loH. Yes faith. 

CoK. For what i'faith, I am glad o'that ; remember to 
tell me on't anone; I haue enough, now ! What manner 
35 of matter is this, M^ Littlewit ? What kind of A6lors ha' 
you ? Are they good A6lors ? 

24 well] will i6g2, iyi6, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 113 

loH. Pretty youthes, Sir, all children both old and 
yong, heer's the Mailer of 'hem — 

(Lan. [Leatherhead whifpers to Littlwit.] Call me not Leather- 
head^ but Lanterne.')- 

loH. Mailer Lanterne, that giues light to the bufineffe, 5 

CoK. In good time, Sir, I would faine fee 'hem, I 
would be glad drinke with the young company; which is 
the Tiring-houfe ? 

Lan. Troth, Sir, our Tiring-houfe is fomewhat little, 
we are but beginners, yet, pray pardon vs; you cannot 10 
goe vpright in't. 

CoK. No ? not now my hat is off ? what would you 
haue done with me, if you had had me, feather, and all, 
as I was once to day ? Ha'you none of your pretty 
impudent boyes, now; to bring flooles, fill Tabacco, fetch 15 
Ale, and beg money, as they haue at other houfes ! let me 
fee fome o'your Aflors. 

Ion. Shew him 'hem, fhew him 'hem. Mafler Lanterne, 
this is a Gentleman, that is a fauorer of the quality. 

Ivs. I, the fauouring of this licencious quality, is the 20 
confumption of many a young Gentleman; a pernicious 

enormity. \^He brings them out in a basket. 

CoK. What, doe they Hue in baskets ? 

Lea. They doe lye in a basket, Sir, they are o'the 
fmall Players. 25 

CoK. Thefe be Players minors, indeed. Doe you call 
thefe Players ? 

Lan. They are AHors, Sir, and as good as any, none 
difprais'd, for dumb fhowes: indeed, I am the mouth of 
'hem all ! 30 

CoK. Thy mouth will hold 'hem all. I thinke, one 
Taylor, would goe neere to beat all this company, with a 
hand bound behinde him. 

loH. I, and eate 'hem all, too, an' they were in cake- 
bread. 35 

7 glad drinke] glad to drink IV, G 



114 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

CoK. I thanke you for that, Mafler Littlewit, a good iefl ! 
which is your Burba ge now ? 

Lan. What meane you by that, Sir ? 
CoK. Your bell A^or. Your Field ? 
5 loH. Good ifaith ! you are euen with me. Sir. 

Lan. This is he, that a6ls young Leander, Sir. He is 

extreamly belou'd of the womenkind, they doe fo affedl 

[75] ^^^ a6lion, the green gameflers, that come here, and this 

is louely Hero; this with the beard, Damon; and this 

10 pretty Pythias: this is the ghofl of King Dionyfius in the 

habit of a fcriuener: as you fhall fee anone, at large. 

CoK. Well they are a ciuill company, I like 'hem for 
that ; they offer not to fieere, nor geere, nor breake iefls, 
as the great Players doe: And then, there goes not fo 
15 much charge to the feafling of 'hem, or making 'hem 
drunke, as to the other, by reafon of their littleneffe. 
Doe they vfe to play perfe6l ? Are they neuer flufler'd ? 

Lan. No, Sir, I thanke my induflry, and policy for it; 
they are as well gouern'd a company, though I fay it — 
20 And heere is young Leander, is as proper an AHor of his 
inches; and fhakes his head like an hofller. 

CoK. But doe you play it according to the printed 
booke ? I haue read that. 
Lan. By no meanes, Sir. 
25 CoK. No ? How then ? 

Lan. a better way. Sir, that is too learned, and poet- 
icall for our audience; what cioe they know what Hellef- 
po7it is ? Guilty of true loues blood ? or what Abidos is ? 
or the other Sejios hight ? 
30 CoK. Th'art i'the right, I do not know my felfe. 

Lan. No, I haue entreated Mafler Littleivit, to take a 
little paines to reduce it to a more familiar flraine for our 
people. 

CoK. How, I pray thee, good M^ Littlewit ? 
35 loH. It pleafes him to make a matter of it. Sir. But 
there is no fuch matter I affure you : I haue onely made it 
a little eafie, and moderne for the times, Sir, that's all; As, 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 115 

for the Hellefpont I imagine our Thames here; and then 
Leander, I make a Diers fonne, about Pitddle-wharfe: and 
Hero a wench o'the Banke-fide, who going ouer one morn- 
ing, to old fifli-flreet ; Leander fpies her land at Trigf- 
Jlayers, and falls in loue with her: Now do I introduce 5 
Cupid, hauing Metamorphosed himfelfe into a Drawer, and 
hee flrikes Hero in loue with a pint of Sherry, and other 
pretty paffages there are, o'the friendfhip, that will delight 
you, Sir, and pleafe you of iudgement. 

CoK. I'll be fworne they fhall ; I am in loue with the 10 
AHors already, and I'll be allyed to them prefently. (They 
refpe6l gentlemen, thefe fellowes) Hero fhall be my fayr- 
ing: But, which of my fayrings ? (Le'me fee) i'faith, my 
fiddle\ and Leander vay fiddle-JJicke: Then Damon, my drutn; 
and Pythias, my Pipe and the ghofl of Dionyfius, my hobby- ic 
horfe. All fitted. 



Act. V. Scene. IV. 

To them Win-wife. Grace. Knockhvm. 

Whitt. Edgvvorth. Win. Miftris 

OvERDOO. And to them VVaspe. 

Looke yonder's your Cokes gotten in among his play- 
fellowes ; I thought we could not miffe him, at fuch 
a Spe6tacle. 

Gra. Let him alone, he is fo bufie, he will neuer 
fpie vs. 

Lea. Nay, good Sir. \Q,oV&% is handling the '^x^-^'^qXs. 

CoK. I warrant thee, I will not hurt her, fellow; what 
dofl think me vnciuill ? I pray thee be not iealous: I am 
toward a wife. 

24 dofl think] dost thou think G 



[76] 



20 



25 



ii6 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

lOH. Well good Mafler Lanteme, make ready to begin, 
that I may fetch my wife, and looke you be perfe6l, you 
vndoe me elfe, i'my reputation. 

Lan. I warrant you Sir, doe not you breed too great an 
5 expedlation of it, among your friends: that's the onely 
hurter of thefe things. 
loH. No, no, no. 

CoK. I'll flay here, and fee; pray thee let me fee. 
WiN-vv. How diligent and troublefome he is! 
lo Gra. The place becomes him, me thinkes. 

Ivs. My ward, Miflreffe Grace in the company of a 
flranger ? I doubt I fhall be compell'd to difcouer my 
felf e, before my time ! 

FiL. Two pence a piece Gentlemen, an excellent 
15 Motion. \_The doore-keepers fpeake. 

Kno. Shall we haue fine fire-works, and good vapours ! 
Sha. Yes Captaine, and water-works, too. 
Whi. I pree dee, take a care o'dy fhmall Lady, there, 
Edgnwrth; I will looke to difh tall Lady my felfe. 
20 Lan. Welcome Gentlemen, welcome Gentlemen. 

Whi. Predee, Mafhter o'de MonJhterJ/i, helpe a very 
ficke Lady, here, to a chayre, to fhit in. 
Lan. Prefently, Sir. 

Whi. Good fait now, Vrjla's Ale, and Aqua-vitae ifh to 
25 blame for't; [They bring Mijiris OuerAoo a chayre.'] fhit downe 
fhweet heart, fhit downe, and fhleep a little. 
Edg. Madame, you are very welcom hither. 
Kno. Yes, and you fhall fee very good vapours. 
Ivs. Here is my care come! I like to fee him in fo 
30 good company; and yet I wonder that perfons of fuch 
fafhion, fliould refort hither! [^jj/ Edgeworth. 

[77] Edg. This is a very priuate houfe, Madame. 

[The Ctit-pur/e courts Mijlrejfe Littlewit. 
Lan. Will it pleafe your Ladifhip fit, Madame ? 
Win. Yes good-man. They doe fo all to be Madame 
35 niee, I thinke they thinke me a very Lady! 

32 This] There 1716, W, G 34 all-to-be-madam W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 117 

Edg. What elfe Madame ? 

Win. Mufl I put off my mafque to him ? 

Edg. O, by no meanes. 

Win. How fhould my husband know mee, then ? 

Kno. Husband? an idle vapour; he mull not know 5 
you, nor you him ; there's the true vapour. 

Ivs. Yea, I will obferue more of this: is this a Z^^', 
friend ? 

Whi. I, and dat is anoder Lad}\ fhweet heart; if dou 
hafht a minde to 'hem giue me twelue pence from tee, and 10 
dou fhalt haue eder-oder on 'hem ! 

Ivs. I? This will prooue my chiefefl enormity: I will 
follow this. 

Edg, Is not this a finer life, Lady\ then to be clogg'd 
with a husband ? 15 

Win. Yes, a great deale. When will they beginne, 
trow ? in the name o'the Motiofi ? 

Edg. By and by Madame, they (lay but for company. 

Kno. Doe you heare, /'////^/-Mailer, thefe are tedious 
vapours; when begin you? 20 

Lan. We flay but for Mafler Littlewit, the AiUhor, who 
is gone for his wife; and we begin prefently. 

Win. That's I, that's I. 

Edg. That was you, Lady; but now you are no fuch 
poore thing. 25 

Kno. Hang the Authors wife, a running vapour! here 
be Ladies, will flay for nere a Delia o'hem all. 

Whi. But heare mee now, heere ifh one o'de LadiJJi, a 
fhleep, flay till fhee but vake man. 

Was. How now friends ? what's heere to doe ? 30 

FiL. Two pence a piece, Sir, the bed Motion, in the 
Fayre. [ The doore-keepers againe. 

Was. I beleeue you lye; if you doe, I'll haue my 
money againe, and beat you. 

Win. Numps is come! 35 

Was. Did you fee a Mafler of mine, come in here, a 
tall yong Squire of Harrow o'the Hill; Mafler Bartholmew 
Cokes ? 



ii8 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

FiL. I thinke there be fuch a one, within. 

Was. Looke hee be, you were bell: but it is very- 
likely: I wonder I found him not at all the refl. I ha' 
beene at the Eagle, and the blacke Wolfe, and the Bull with 
5 the fine legges, and two pizzles; (hee was a Calfe at 
Vxbridge Fayre, two yeeres agone) And at the dogges that 
daunce the Morrice, and the Hare o'the Taber\ and mill 
him at all thefe! Sure this mull needs be fome fine fight, 
that holds him fo, if it haue him. 
[78] CoK. Come, come, are you ready now ? 

Lan. Prefently, Sir. 

Was. Hoyday, hee's at worke in his Dublet, and hofe; 
doe you heare. Sir ? are you imploy'd ? that you are bare 
headed, and fo bufie ? 
15 CoK. Hold your peace, Numpes; you ha'beene i'the 
Stocks, I heare. 

Was. Do's he know that ? nay, then the date of my 
Authority \s, ovX; I mufl thinke no longer to raigne, my 
gouernment is at an end. He that will corre6l another, 
20 mufl want fault in himfelfe. 

WiN-w. Sententious Numps ! I neuer heard fo much 
from him, before. 

Lan. Sure, Mailer Z////^7<:/// will not come; pleafe you 
take your place, Sir, wee'll beginne. 
25 CoK. I pray thee doe, mine eares long to be at it; and 
my eyes too. O Numps, i'the Stocks, Numps ? where's 
your fword, Numps ? 

Was. I pray you intend your game, Sir, let me alone. 

CoK. Well then, we are quit for all. Come, fit downe, 

30 Numps; I'le interpret to thee: did you fee Millreffe Grace 1 

it's no matter, neither, now I thinke on't, tell mee anon. 

WiN-w. A great deale of loue, and care, he expreffes. 

Gra. Alas! would you haue him to expreffe more 
then hee has ? that were tyranny. 
35 CoK. Peace, ho; now, now. 

Lan. Gentles, that no longer your expectations may wander. 
Behold our chief A^or, amorous Leander. 

36 Gentles\ Gentiles i6g2, iyi6 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 119 

With a great deale of cloth, lap'd about him like a Scarf e, 

For he yet femes his father, a Dyer at Puddle wharf e, 

Which place wee' II make bold with, to call it our Abidus, 

As the Banke-fide is our Seflos, and let it not be deufd vs. 

Now, as he is beating, to make the Dye take the fuller, 5 

Who chances to come by, but fair e Hero, in a Sculler; 

And feeing Leanders naked legge, and goodly calfe, 

Cafl at him, from, the boat, a Sheepes eye, and a halfe. 

Now JJie is lajided, a?id the Sculler come backe ; 

By and by, you fJiall fee what Leander doth lacke. 10 

Pvp. L. Cole, Cole, old Cole. 

Lan. That is the Scullers na??ie without controle. 

Pvp. L. Cole, Cole, I fay. Cole. 

Lan. We doe heare you. 

Pvp. L. Old Cole. 15 

Lan. Old cole ? Is the Dyer turn'd Collier ? how do you fell ? 

Pvp. L. a pox o'your maners, kiffe my hole here, and 

fmell. 

Lan. Kiffe your hole, and fmelll there's manners indeed. 

Pvp. L. Why, Cole, I fay. Cole. 

Lan. It's the Sculler you need ! 20 

Pvp. L. /, and be hang' d. [79] 

Lan. Be hang' d; looke you yonder. 
Old Cole, you muft go hang with M after Leander. 

Pvp. C. Where is he ? 

Pvp. L. Here, Cole, what fayerefl of Payers, 25 

was that fare, that thou landefl but now a Trigsflayres ? 

CoK. What was that, fellow ? Pray thee tell me, I 
fcarfe vnderfland 'hem. 

Lan. 'L.Q2iX\.diQX do's aske. Sir, what fayrefl of Payers, 
Was the fare thhe landed, but now, at Trigsflayers ? 30 

Pvp. C. It is louely Hero. 

Pvp. L. Nero? 

Pvp. C. No, Hero. 

Lan. It is Hero. 

20 Is't the sculler 3'ou need? G 26 a\ at j6g2, 17 16, IV, G 
30 thhe\ he i6g2, 17 16, IV, G 



I20 Bartholmevv Fayre, 

Of the Bankfide, he faith, to tell you truth with out erring, 
Is come ouer into FiJJi-flreet to eat fome frefh herring. 
Leanderyiri'^j' no more, but as fafl as he can. 
Gets on all his befl cloathes', and will after to the Swan. 
5 CoK. Mofl admirable good, is't not ? 
Lan. Stay, Sculler. 
Pvp. C. What fay you 1 
Lan. You mufl flay for Leander, 
and carry him to the wetich. 
lo Pvp. C. You Rogue, I am no Pandar. 

CoK. He fayes he is no Pandar. 'Tis a fine language; 
I vnderfland it, now. 

Lan. Are you no Pandar, Goodman Cole ? heers no man 

fayes you are, 
You'll grow a hot Cole, it feemes, pray you flay for your fare. 
15 Pvp. C. Will hee come away ? 
Lan. What doe you fay ? 
Pvp. C. Pde ha' him come. away. 

Lea. Would you /^a'Leander come awayl why 'pray' 

Sir, flay. 
You are angry, Goodman Cole; I beleeue the fair e Mayd 
20 Came ouer w'you a'trufl : tell vs. Sculler, are you paid. 
Pvp. C. Yes Goodman Hogrubber, o'Pickt-hatch. 
Lav : How, Hogrubber o'Pickt-hatch ? 
Pvp. C. I Hogrubber o'Pickt-hatch. Take you that. 

[The Puppet y?;'f^^j- him ouer the pate 
Lan. O, my head ! 
25 Pvp. C. Harme watch, harme catch. 

CoK. Harme watch, harme catch, he fayes : very good 
i'faith, the Sculler had like to ha'knock'd you, firrah. 
Lan. Yes, but that his fare call'd him away. 
Pvp. L. Row apace, row apace, row, row, row, row, row. 
30 Lan. You are knauiflily loaden, Sculler, take heed where 
you goe, 

Pvp. C. Knaue i' your face, Goodman Rogue. 
Pvp. L. Row, row, row, row, row, row. 
CoK. Hee faid knaue i'your face, friend. 



BaRTHOLMEVV FaYRE. 121 

Lan. I Sir, I heard him. But there's no talking to [8o] 
thefe watermen, they will ha'the lafl word 

CoK. God's my life! I am not allied to the Sculler, 
yet ; hee fhall be DaitpJiin my boy. But my Fiddle-flicke 
do's fiddle in and out too much; I pray thee fpeake to 5 
him on't: tell him, I would haue him tarry in my fight, 
more. 

Lan. I Pray you be content; you'll haue enough on 
him. Sir. 
Now gentles, I take it, here is none of yoii fo Jlupid, lo 

but that you haue heard of a little god of loue, call'd Cupid. 
Who out of kindnes to Leander, hearing he but f aw her, 

this prefent day and houre, doth turne him f elf e to a Drawer. 
And becaufe, he would haue their fir fl meeting to be merry, 

he fir ikes Hero in loue to him, with a pint of Sherry. 15 

Which he tells her, from amorous Leander is fent her, 

who after hitn, into the roome of Hero, doth venter. 

[Pvp. Leander ^^fj- itito Mijlris Hero's room 

Pvp. lo : A pint of fackc, fcore a pint of facke, i'the 
Conney. 

CoK. Sack ? you faid but ee'n now it fhould be Sherry. 20 

Pvp. Io: Why fo it is; fherry,fJierry, flierry. 

CoK. Sherry, fJierry, flierry. By my troth he makes me 
merry. I mufi. haue a name for Cupid, too. Let me fee, 
thou mightfL helpe me now, an' thou wouldefl, Numps, at 
a dead lift, but thou art dreaming o'the flocks, flill! Do 25 
not thinke on't, I haue forgot it: 'tis but a nine dayes 
wonder, man ; let it not trouble thee. 

Was. I would the flocks were about your necke, Sir; 
condition I hung by the heeles in them, till the wonder 
were off from you, with all my heart. 30 

CoK. Well faid xQioXxxtQ Numps: but hearke you friend, 
where is the friendfhip, all this while, betweene my Drum, 
Damon; and my Pipe, Pythias ? 

Lan. You fhall fee by and by, Sir ? 

17 venter\ venture i6q2, 17 16, W, G 
34 Sir?] Sir. 769.?, 17 16, W, G 



12 2 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

CoK. You thinke my Hobby-horfe is forgotten, too; 
no, I'll fee 'hem all ena6l before I go; I Ihall not know 
which to loue befl, elfe. 

Kno. This Gallant has interrupting vapours, trouble- 
5 fome vapours, W/iitt, pulfe with him. 

Whit. No, I pre dee, Captaine, let him alone. Hee is 
a Child i'faith, la'. 

Lan. Now gentles, to the frei7ids, who in number, are two, 
and lodg'd in that Ale-houfe, in 7vhich /aire Hero do's doe. 
lo Damon [for fome kindneffe done him the lajl weeke) 

is co7ne faire Hero, in FiJJi-Jlreete, this morning to feeke: 
Pythias do's fmell the knauery of the meeting, 

and now you fJiall fee their true friendly greeting. 
Pvp. Pi. You tvhore-mafterly Slaue, you. 
15 CoK. Whore-maflerly flaue, you ? very friendly, & 
familiar, that. 

Pvp. Da. Whore-mafter i' thy face, 
Thou hafl lien with her thy f elfe, I'll proue't V this place. 
CoK. Damon fayes Pythias has lien with her, himfelfe, 
20 hee'll prooue't in this place. 
[81] Lan. They are Whore- maflers both, Sir, that's a plaine 

cafe. 
Pvp. Pi. You lye, like a Rogue. 
Lan. Doe I ly, like a Rogue ? 
Pvp. Pi. A Pi77ipe, a7id a Scabbe. 
25 Lan. a Pi77ipe, a7id a Scabbe ? 

I fay between you, you haue both but o/ie Drabbe. 
Pvp. Da. You lye agai7ie. 
Lan. Doe I lye agai7ie ? 
Pvp. Da. Like a Rogue agai7ie. 
30 Lan. Like a Rogue agai7ie ? 

Pvp. Pi. And you are a Pi77ipe, agai7ie. 

CoK. And you are a Pi77ipe againe, he fayes. 

Pvp. Da. And a Scabbe, agai7te. 

CoK. And a Scabbe againe, he fayes. 

8 ge7ttles\ Gentiles i6g2, ijid. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 123 

Lan. And I fay againe, you are both whore-majlers againe^ 
and you haue both but one Dt'abbe againe. ^They fight. 

Pvp. Da. Pi. Do Jl thou, do Jl thou, dojlthoul 

AN. What, both at once ? 

Pvp. p. Downe tvith him, Damon 5 

Pvp. D. Pinke his guts, Pythias: 

Lan. What, fo malicious ? 
will ye murder me, Majters both, i'tnine otvne houfe ? 

CoK. Ho! well adled my Drum, well adted my Pipe, 
well a<5led (lill. 10 

Was. Well a6led, with all my heart. 

Lan. Hid, hold your hands 

CoK. I, both your hands, for my fake! for you ha' 
both done well. 

Pvp. D. Gramercy pure Pythias. 15 

Pvp. p. Gramercy, Deare Damon. 

CoK. Gramercy to you both, my Pipe, and my drum. 

Pvp. P.D. Come noio 7vee'll together to breakfajl to Hero. 

Lan. ' Tis well, you can now go to breakfajl to Hero, 
you haue giuen mmy breakfafl, with a hone i?;/</ honero. 20 

CoK. How is't friend, ha'they hvirt thee ? 

Lan. O no! 

Betweene you and I Sir, we doe but make fhow. 
Thus Gentles you perceiue, without any deniall, 

'twixt Damon and Pythias here, friendfJiips true tryall. 25 

Though hourely they quarrell thus, and roare each with other, 

they fight you no more, then do's brother with brother. 
But friendly together, at the next man they meet, 

they let fly their anger as here you might fee' t. 

CoK. Well, we haue feen't, and thou hafl felt it, what- 30 
foeuer thou fayed, what's next ? what's next ? 

Lea. This while young Leander, with f aire Hero is 

drinking^ 

and Hero growne drunke, to any mans thinking \ 
Yet was it not three pints of Sherry could flaw her. 

till Cupid diflinguijli d like lonas the Drawer, [82] 

8 mine\ my i6g2, 1716, W, G 20 niiny>\ me my ibg2, 1716, IV, G 

24 Gentles] Gentiles i6g2, iyi6 



f 

124 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

From vnder his aproti, where his lechery liirkes, 
put loiie in her Sacke. Now viarke how it workes. 
Pvp. H. O Leander Leander, my deare my deare 

Leander, 
rie for euer be thy goofe, fo thou' It be my gander. 
5 CoK. Excellently well faid, Fiddle^ fliee'll euer be his 
goofe, fo hee'll be her gander: was't not fo ? 
Lan, Yes, Sir, but marke his anfwer, now. 
Pvp, L. And fweetejl of geefe, before I goe to bed, 
Fllfwimmeo're the Thames, my goofe, thee to tread. 
10 CoK. Braue! he will fwimme o're the Thatnes, and 
tread his goofe, too night, he fayes. 

Lan. I, peace, Sir, the'll be angry, if they heare you 
eauef-dropping, now they are fetting their match. 

Pvp. L. But left the Thames fJiould be dark, my goofe, my 

deare friend, 
\c let thy window be protiided of a candles end. 

Pvp, H. Feare not my ga?ider, I protefl, I fJiould handle 

my matters very ill, if I had not a whole candle. 
Pvp. L. Well then, looke tot, and kiffe ?7ie to boote. 
Lan. Now, heere come the friends againe, Pythias, csnd 

Damon, 
20 cind vnder their clokes, they haue of Bacon, a gammon. 

[Damon and Pythias enter. 
Pvp. p. Drawer, fill fome wine heere. 
Lan, How, fome wine there ? 

there's company already. Sir, pray forbeare! 
Pvp. D. 'Tis Hero. 
25 Lan. Yes, but ffiee will not be taken, 

after facke, and frefh herring, with your 'Dn'nuxo'w -bacon. 
Pvp. F You lye, it's Weflfabian. 
Lan. Weftphaliaii you fhould fay. 

Pvp. D. If you hold not your peace, you are a Coxcombe, I 
30 would fay. [Leander and Hero are kijjing. 

Pvp. What's here ? what's here ? kiffe, kiffe, vpon kiffe. 
Lan. /, Wherefore f/tould they not ? what harme is in this ? 

'tis Miflreffe Hero. 
Pvp. D. Miflreffe Hero's a whore. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 125 

Lan. Is JJiee a whore ? keepe you quiet, or Sir Knaue out 

of dore. 
Pvp. D. Knaue out of doore ? 
Pvp. II. Yes, Knaue, out of doore. 
Pvp. D. Whore out of doore. 

[ffeere the Puppets quarrell and fall together by the eares, 
Pvp. H. I fay, Ktiaue, out of doore. 5 

Pvp. D. I say, whore, out of doore. 
Pvp. p. Yea, fo fay I too. 
Pvp. H. Kiffe the whore d'the arfe. 
Lan. Now you hafomething to doe: 

you mufl kiffe her 0' the arfe JJiee f ayes. 10 

Pvp. D. p. So we 7vill, fo we will. 
Pvp. H. O my hanches, O my hanches, hold, hold. 
Lan. Stand' fl thou flill ? 
Leander, where art thou ? fland'fl thou flill like a fot, 

and not offer' fl to breake both their heads tvith a pot ? [83] 

See who's at thine elbow, there ! Puppet lonas and Cupid.' 
Vpon 'hem Leander, be not fo flupid. \_T hey fight. 
You Goat-bearded flaue ! 
You whore-mafler Knaue. 

Thou art a whore-mafler. 20 

Whore-maflers all. 
See, Cupid luith a ivord has tane ip the brawle. 
Thefe be fine vapours ! 

By this good day they fight brauely ! doe they 
not, Numps ? 25 

Was. Yes, they lack'd but you to be their fecond, all 
this while. 

Lan. This tragicall encounter, falling out thus to bufie vs, 
It raifes vp the ghofl of their friend Dionyfius : 
Not like a Monarch, but the Mafler of a Schoole, ^o 

in a Scriueners furr'd gowne, which fhewes he is no foole. 
for therein he hath wit enough to keepe himfelfe warme. 
O Damon he cries, and Pythias ; tvhat harnie, 
Hath poore Dionyfius done you in his graue, 

That after his death, you fJiould fall out thus, and raue, ^c 

And call amorous Leander whore-mafler Knaue? 

Pvp. D. I cannot, I will not, I protnife you endure it. 



Pvp. 


L 


Pvp. 


Z. 


Pvp. 


D. 


Pvp. 


I. 


Pvp. 


I. 


Lan. 




Kno. 


r 


COK. 


I 



126 Bartholmevv Fayre, 



Act. v. Scene. V. 

To them Bvsy. 

T> VS. Downe with Dagon, downe with JDagon; 'tis I, will 
■^ no longer endure your prophanations. 
Lan. What meane you, Sir ? 

Bvs. I will remoue Dagon there, I fay, that Idoll^ that 
5 heathenifli Idoll, that remaines (as I may fay) a beame, a 
very beame, not a beame of the Sunne, nor a beame of the 
Moone, nor a beame of a ballance, neither a houfe-beame, 
nor a Weauers beame, but a beame in the eye, in the 
eye of the brethren; a very great beame, an exceeding 
lo great beame; fuch as are your Stage-players, Rimers, and 
Morrife-dancers, who haue walked hand in hand, in con- 
tempt of the Brethren, and the Caufe-, and beene borne out 
by inftruments, of no meane countenance. 

Lan. Sir, I prefent nothing, but what is licens'd by 
15 authority. 

Bas. Thou art all licenfe, euen licentioiifneffe it felfe, 
Shimei ! 

Lan. I haue the Mafler of the ReuelVs haud for't, Sir. 
[84] Bvs. The MafLer of Retells hand, thou hafl; Satan s \ 
20 hold thy peace, thy fcurrility fhut vp thy mouth, thy pro- 
feffion is damnable, and in pleading for it, thou dofl plead 
for Baal. I haue long opened my mouth wide, and gaped, 
I haue gaped as the oyfler for the tide after thy dellruc- 
tion: but cannot compaffe it by fute, or difpute; fo thar I 
25 looke for a bickering, ere long, and then a battell. 
Kno. Good Banbury-vapours . 

CoK. Friend, you'ld haue an ill match on't, if you 
bicker with him here, though he be no man o'the fifl, hee 

I 'tis I, I will G 
20 {cnxxiWxy followed by a comma idgz, ijib, W, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 127 

has friends that will goe to cuffes for him, Numps, will not 
you take our fide ? 

Edg. Sir, it fhall not need, in my minde, he offers him 
a fairer courfe, to end it by difputation ! hafl thou nothing 
to fay for thy felfe, in defence of thy quality ? 5 

Lan. Faith, Sir, I am not well ftudied in thefe con- 
trouerfies, betweene the hypocrites and vs. But here's one 
of my Motion, Pitppet JDonifms fhall vndertake him, and I'le 
venture the caufe on't. 

CoK. Who ? my Hobby-horfe ? will he difpute with 10 
him ? 

Lan, Yes, Sir, and make a Hobby-Affe of him, I hope. 

CoK. That's excellent ! indeed he lookes like the befl. 
fcholler of 'hem all. Come, Sir, you mufl be as good as 
your word, now. 15 

Bvs. I will not feare to make my fpirit, and gifts 
knowne ! affifl me zeale, fill me, fill me, that is, make me 
full. 

WiN-w. What a defperate, prophane wretch is this ! 
is there any Ignorance, or impudence like his? to call his 20 
zeale to fill him againfl a Puppet 1 

QvA. I know no fitter match, then a Puppet to commit 
with an Hypocrite ? 

Bvs. Firfl, I fay vnto thee, Idoll, thou hafl no Calling. 

Pvp. D. You lie, J am calVd Dionifius. 25 

Lan. The Motion fayes you lie, he is call'd Dionifcus 
ithe matter, and to that calling he anfwers. 

Bvs. I meane no vocation, Idoll, no prefent lawful! 
Calling. 

Pvp. D. Is yours a lawfull Calli?ig} 30 

Lan. The Motion asketh, if yours be a lawfull Calling'^ 

Bvs. Yes, mine is of the Spirit. 

Pvp. D. Then Idoll is a lawfull Calling. 

Lan. He faies, then Idoll is a lawfull Calling ! for you 
call'd him Idoll, and your Calling is of the fpirit. 35 

CoK. Well difputed, Hobby-horfe ! 

I goe om. IV, G 



128 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Bvs. Take not part with the wicked young Gallant. 
He neygheth and hinneyeth, all is but hinnying Sophiflry, 
I call him Idoll againe. Yet, I fay, his Calling, his Pro- 
feffion is prophane, it is prophane, Idoll. 
e Pvp. D. It is not prophane ! 

Lan. It is not prophane, he fayes. 
Bvs. It is prophane. 
Pvp. It is not prophane. 
[85] Bvs. It is prophane. 
10 Pvp. // is not prophane. 

Lan "Well faid, confute him with not., flill. You can- 
not beare him downe with your bafe noyfe, Sir. 

Bvs. Nor he me, with his treble creeking, though he 
creeke like the chariot wheeles of Satan ; I am zealous for 
15 the Caufe — 

Lan. As a dog for a bone. 

Bvs. And I fay, it is prophane, as being the Page of 
Pride, and the waiting woman of vanity. 

Pvp. D. F^a ? what fay you to your Tire-women, thenl 
20 Lan. Good. 

Pvp. Or feather-makers i'the Fryers, that are o'your 

fallion of faith ? Are not they with their perrukes, and their 

puffes, their fannes, and their huff es, as much Pages ^/ Pride, 

and waiters vpon vanity? what fay you 1 what fay you 1 what 

25 fay you 1 

Bvs. I will not anfwer for them. 

Pvp. Becaiife you cannot, becaufe you cannot. Is a Bugle- 
maker a lawfull Calling ? or the Confe6l-makers ? fuch you 
haue there : or your French Fafhioner ? you'ld haue all the 
30 finne within your felues, would you notl would you not} 
Bvs. No, Dagon. 

Pvs. What then, Dagonet ? is a Puppet worfe then thefe ? 
Bvs. Yes, and my maine argument againll you, is, that 
you are an abomination : for the Male, among you, putteth 
35 on the apparell of the Female, and the Female of the Male. 
Pvp. You lye, you lye, you lye abominably. 

I Comma supplied after wicked 17 16, IV, G 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 129 

CoK. Good, by my troth, he has giuen him the lye 
thrice. 

Pvp. It is your old Jlale argument againjl the Players, but 
it will not hold againjl the Puppets ; for we haue neyther Male 
nor Female amoiigjl vs. And that thou mafjl fee, if thou 5 
wilt, like a malicious purblinde zeale as thou art ! 

[ The Puppet takes vp his garment. 

Edg. By my faith, there he has anfwer'd you, friend ; 
by playne demonftration. 

Pvp. Nay, I'le proue, againfl ere a Rabbin of 'hem all, 
that my Jlanding is as law full as his ; that I fpeak by infpira- 10 
tion, as well as he ; that I haue as little to doe with learning as 
he ; and doe fcorne her helps as much as he. 

Bvs, I am confuted, the Caufe hath failed me. 

Pvs. Then be conuerted, be conuerted. 

Lan. Be conuerted, I pray you, and let the Play goe 15 
on ! 

Bvs. Let it goe on. For I am changed, and will be- 
come a beholder Avith you ! 

CoK. That's braue i'faith, thou hafl carryed it away, 
Hobby-horfe, on with the Play! 20 

I vs. [The lufiice difcouers him/elfe.'\ Stay, now do I forbid, 
I Adam Ouerdoo ! fit flill, I charge you. 

CoK. What, my Brother i'law ! 

Gra. My wife Guardian ! 

Edg. luflice OuerdooX 25 

Ivs. It is time, to take Enormity by the fore head, and [86] 
brand it ; for, I haue difcouer'd enough. 

8 by playne] a plain G 22 I am Adam i6g2, iji6, W, G 



13° Bartholmevv Fayre. 



Act. V. Scene. VI. 

To them^ Qvarlovs. {like the Mad-man) Pvre- 
CRAFT. {a while after) Iohn. to them Trov- 

BLE-ALL. VrSLA. NiGHTIGALE. 

eVAR. Nay, come Miflreffe Bride. You mull doe as 
I doe, now. You mull be mad with mee, in truth. 
I haue heere lujiice Ouerdoo for it. 
Ivs. Peace good Trouble-all ; come hither, and you 
5 Ihall trouble none. I will take the charge of you, and 
your friend too, \^To the Cutpur/e, and Mijlreffe Litwit.] yoU alfo, 
young man fhall be my care, fland there. 
Edg. Now, mercy vpon mee. 

Kno. Would we were away, Whit, thefe are dangerous 
lo vapours, befl fall off with our birds, for feare o'the Cage. 

[ The rejl are Jlealing away. 
Ivs. Stay, is not my name your terror ? 
Whi. Yefli faith man, and it ifh fot tat, we would be 
gone man. 

loH. O Gentlemen! did you not fee a wife of mine? I 
15 ha'lofl my little wife, as I fhall be trufled: my little pretty 
Win, I left her at the great woman's houfe in trufl yon- 
der, the Pig-womans, with Captaine lordan, and Captaine 
Whit, very good men, and I cannot heare of her. Poore 
foole, I feare fliee's flepp'd afide. Mother, did you not fee 
20 Win ? 

Ivs. If this graue Matron be your mother. Sir, fland 

by her, Et digito compefce labellum, I may perhaps fpring a 

wife for you, anone. Brother Bartholmew, I am fadly 

forry, to fee you fo lightly giuen, and fuch a Difciple of 

25 enormity : with your graue Gouernour Humphrey : but 

6 friend too,] Friend too ; i6g2, 1716, W, G , 



Bartholmevv Fayre. 131 

(land you both there, in the middle place ; I will repre- 
hend you in your courfe. Miflreffe Grace, let me refcue ' 
you out of the hands of the flranger. 

WiN-w. Pardon me, Sir, I am a kinfman of hers. 

Ivs. Are you fo ? of what name, Sir ? 5 

WiN-w. Winwi/e, Sir : 

Ivs. Mafler Winwife ? I hope you haue won no wife 
of her. Sir. If you haue, I will examine the poffibility 
of it, at fit leafure. Now, to my enormities : looke vpon 
mee, O LondonX and fee mee, O Smithfield \ The exainple of 10 
lujlice, and Mirror of Magiflrates: the true top of formal- 
ity, and fcourge of enormity. Harken vnto my labours, [87] 
and but obferue my difcoueries ; and compare Hercules 
with me, if thou dar'fl, of old ; or Columbus ; Magellan ; 
or our countrey man Drake of later times : Hand forth 15 
you weedes of enormity, and fpread. \^To Bufy,] First, 
Rabbi Bufy, thou fuperlunaticall hypocrite, [Ti? Lantern,] 
next, thou other extremity, thou prophane profeffor of 
Puppetry, little better then Poetry : [To the hor/e courfer, and 
gutpur/e.^ then thou llrong Debaucher, and Seducer of 20 
youth ; witneffe this eafie and honefl young man : [Then 
Cap. Whit,] now thou Efquire of Dames, Madams, and 
twelue-penny Za^zVi': [and Mijlreffe'L\\.\\Q\\\x.'\ now my greene 
Madame her felfe, of the price. Let mee vnmafque your 
LadiJJiip. 25 

loH. O my wife, my wife, my wife ! 

Ivs. Is fhe your wife ? Redde te Harpocratem ! 

[Enter Trouble-all. 

Tro. By your leaue, fland by my Maflers, be vncouer'd. 

Vrs. O flay him, flay him, helpe to cry. Nightingale-, 
my pan, my panne. ^jo 

Ivs. What's the matter ? 

Nig. Hee has flolne gammar Vrfla's panne. 

Tro. Yes, and I feare no man but luflice Ouerdoo. 

Ivs. Vrfla ? where is fhe ? O the Sow of enormity, 
this! [To Vrfla and Nightingale.] welcome, fland you there, ^e 
you Songfler, there. 



132 Bartholmevv Fayre. 

Vrs. An' pleafe your worfhip, I am in no fault: A 
Gentleman ftripp'd him in my Booth, and borrow'd his 
gown, and his hat; and hee ranne away with my goods, 
here, for it. 
5 Ivs. [To Quarlous.] Then this is the true mad-man, and 
you are the enormity! 

QvA. You are i'the right, I am mad, but from the 
gowne outward. 

Ivs. Stand you there. 
10 QvA. Where you pleafe. Sir. 

Over O lend me a bafon, I am ficke, I am ficke; 
Where's M^ Ouerdoo ? Bridget, call hither my Adam. 

[Mijlrejfe Ouerdoo is ficke : and her husband is fclenc'd. 

Ivs. How ? 

Whi. Dy very owne wife, i'fait, worfhipfuU Adam. 
15 Over. Will not my Adam come at mee ? fliall I fee him 
no more then ? 

QvA. Sir, why doe you not goe on with the enormity ? 
are you opprefl with it ? I'le helpe you: harke you Sir, 
i'your eare, your In7iocent young ?nan, you haue tane fuch 
20 care of, all this day, is a Cutpurfe\ that hath got all youf 
brother Cokes his things, and help'd you to your beating, 
and the flocks; if you haue a minde to hang him now, and 
fhew him your Magijlrates wit, you may: but I fhould 
think it were better, recouering the goods, and to faue 
25 your eflimation in him. I thank you S^ for the gift of 
your Ward, M'^^ Grace: look you, here is your hand & 
feale, by the way. M^ Win-wife giue you ioy, you are 
Palemon, you are poffefl o'the Gentlewoman, but fhe mufl 
pay me value, here's warrant for it. And honefl mad-man, 
30 there's thy gowne, and cap againe; I thanke thee for my 
wife. [To the 7viddow.'] Nay, I can be mad, fweet heart, 
[88] when I pleafe, flill; neuer feare me: And carefull JVumfs, 
where's he ? I thanke him for my licence. 

Was. How! [Wafpe mijfeth the Licence. 

35 Q"^^- Tis true, Numps. 
Was. I'll be hang'd then. 



Bartholmevv Fayre. ^33 

QvA. Loke i'your boxe, Numps, nay, Sir, (land not you 
fixt here, like a flake in Finsbury to be fliot at, or the 
whipping pofl i'the Fayre, but get your wife out o'the ayre, 
it wil make her worfe elfe; and remember you are but 
Adam, Flefh, and blood! you haue your fraility, forget 5 
your other name of Ouerdoo, and inuite vs all to fupper. 
There you and I Avill compare our difcoueries\ and drowne 
the memory o^ all enormity in your bigg'fl bowle at home. 

CoK. How now, Numps, ha'you lofl it ? I warrant, 
'twas when thou wert i'the flocks: why dofl not fpeake ? lo 

Was. I will neuer fpeak while I Hue, againe, for ought 
I know. 

Ivs. Nay, Humphrey, if I be patient, you mufl be fo too; 
this pleafant conceited Gentleman hath wrought vpon my 
iudgement, and preuail'd: I pray you take care of your ^5 
ficke friend, Miflreffe Alice, and my good friends all — 

QvA. And no enormities. 

Ivs. I inuite you home, with mee to my houfe, to fup- 
per: I will haue none feare to go along, for my intents 
are Ad corre^lionem, non ad dejlru^ionem'. Ad (Bdificandufu, 20 
non ad diruendum: fo lead on. 

CoK. Yes, and bring the A^ors along, wee'll ha'the 
refl o'the Play at home. 

The end. 



134 Bartholmevv Fayre, 



Y 



The Epilogve. 

Our Maiefly hath feene the Play, and you 

can bejl allow it fro?n your eare, and view. 
You know the f cope of Writers, and what Jiore, 

of leaue is giuen them, if they take not tnore, 
And turne it into licence : you can tell 

if we haue vs'd that leaue you gaue vs, well: 
Or whether wee to rage, or licence breake, 

or be prophane, or make prophane ?nen fpeake ? 
This is your power to iudge [great Sir) and not 

the enuy of a few. Which if wee haue got., 
Wee value leffe what their diflike can bring., 

if it fo happy be., f haue pleas' d the King. 



Notes 135 



NOTES 

References to Bartholomew Fair read page, line, of the text pre- 
ceding; to other plays of Jonson, act, scene, Gifford's text. In 
citing the works of Jonson and Shakespeare, the author's name 
has been commonly omitted. Notes from Whalley are marked W.; 
from Gifford, G.; from Cunningham, Cun.; other abbreviations 
will be understood by referring to the Bibliography. 

TITLE-PAGE. Bartholmew. With one exception (11. 4), 
the uniform spelling throughout the play, indicating the pronuncia- 
tion. In Shakespeare, first folio, T. of Shrew, Induct, i. 105, 2 
Hen. IV, 2. 4. 250, it is similarly spelled; however, in Hen. V, 5. 2. 
336, Bartholomexv. 

Lady Elizabeths Servants, Elizabeth (1596-1662) was the 
eldest daughter of James I. When but little more than a child, she 
was celebrated for her beauty, and became very popular. 

There existed three successive companies of this name, the 
second and third being formed by the uniting of a rival company 
with the first. They were organized by Henslowe at the following 
dates: l) August, 1611; 2) March, 1613; 3) April, 1614. For the 
names of the actors, see Fleay's Hist, of the Stage, 186-188. 

'On the accession of James all the men's companies were taken 
under the patronage of the Royal Family. . . . The two 
children's companies were soon finally suppressed and replaced by 
players patronized by the Duke of York and the Lady Elizabeth.' 
— Fleay, Hist, of Stage, 165. 

Beniamin Johnson. Wheatley says that the poet invariably signed 
his name Jonson, but others usually wrote it Johnson. In the 1631-41 
folio, the title-pages of The Staple of Nezvs and The Devil is an 
Ass have it without h; in twelve other places where the name 
occurs, h is inserted. In the 1616 fqlio, which was much more 
carefully printed, it is spelled lonson, so also in the 1612 quarto of 
The Alchemist. 

The quotation from Horace is 11. 194-200 of the Epistle desig- 
nated, with the following differences : 11. 195-6 have been omitted as 
irrelevant; seu, changed to nam; asello, misspelled assello. 

I. B, 'In an undated and hitherto misunderstood letter to the 
Earl of Newcastle, Harl. MS. 4955, he [Jonson] says (I have cor- 
rected the punctuation), "It is the lewd printer's [J. Benson's] 



136 Bartholomew Fair 

fault that I can send your lordship no more of my book. I sent 
you one piece before, The Fair [Bartholomew Fair] ; and now I 
send you this other morsel, The fine gentleman that walks the town, 
The Fiend [The Devil is an Ass] ; but before he will perfect the 
rest I fear he will come himself to be a part under the title of The 
Absolute Knave, which he hath played with me." The only other 
play which Benson printed for Jonson was The Staple of News, and 
this letter must lie between his printing that and the preceding one. 
The Devil's an Ass.' — Fleay, Chron. Eng. Drama, i. 354. 

Robert Allot. During this same year (1631) he also published 
The Devil is an Ass and The Staple of News; the following year, 
the 'Second Impression' of Shakespeare's Works. See Hazlitt's 
Handbook for the names of nearly forty books published by him 
between 1626 and 1635. Attempts have been made to identify him 
with the author of England's Parnassus, but of the latter person 
little is known, and the general opinion is against this identification. 

at the signe of the Beare, in Pauls Church-yard. Before the 
Great Fire, 1666, St. Paul's Church-yard was chiefly occupied by 
stationers, who were known by their signs (cf. note on signs, 22. 31). 

PROLOGUE. Bartholomezv Fair was performed at court before 
King James, November i, 1614, the day following its first production 
at the Hope. 

your lands Faction. The Puritans, whom James had found 
annoying and troublesome enough (as is suggested in 11. 6, 7), when 
he opposed them in matters of conscience. 

scandaliz'd at toyes, As Babies. Not until three quarters of a 
century later, did the Bartholomew babies become known as dolls 
(corrupted from Dorothy). The name is of especial interest, if, as 
Morley states, it was Bartholomew Fair that gave it : 'Bartholomew 
babies were illustrious ; but their name, as the license of the Fair 
increased, was of equivocal suggestion. Therefore, when some 
popular toyman, who might have called his babies pretty Sues, 
or Molls, or Polls, cried diligently to the ladies who sought fairings 
for their children, "Buy a pretty Doll" (it was at a time, too, 
when the toy babies were coming more and more into demand), 
the conquest of a clumsiness was recognized.' — Morley, Mem. 334. 

iust complaint. Precise charge or accusation. 

Fayring. A present from a fair. At first it was usually a relic 
or image of a saint (thus the ancestor of the gingerbread figures). 

PERSONS OF THE PLAY. Following his custom, Jonson gives 
to his people names suggested by a 'humor' or some predominant 
characteristic. The appropriateness in most cases will be readily 



Notes 137 

seen. Quarlotis very likely is a contraction of quarrelous — quarrel 
used in its old legal sense of a 'charge or accusation, ground for a 
suit,' its applicability resting in the fact that Quarlous had been 
earlier a law student at the Inns of Court. Why Alice is the name 
given to the Mistresse o'the Game, I do not know. Ursula was a 
common name for a kitchen-woman — see note on 34. 14. 

a Banbury man. Cf. note on 14. 24. 

Knock-hvm. A Horse-courser. A horse-courser bought and sold 
horses already in use ; to be distinguished from the horse-dealer, who 
traded in horses of his own rearing and training. 

ranger. 'A sworn officer of a forest, appointed by the king's 
letters patent, whose business it was to walk through the forest, 
watch the deer, prevent trespasses, etc' — C. D. The term is used 
figuratively and goes well with Mistresse o'the Game (three lines 
later). Cf. Dekker's 2 Honest JVhore, 3. i. 

Inf. My lord turned ranger now? 

Orl. You're a good huntress, lady; you ha' found your game already: your 
lord would fain be a ranger, but my mistress requests you to let him run a 
course in your own park. 

Hunting terms were commonly employed by the gallants and rogues 
for their dark doings. 

Turnbull. Properly, Tummill. The latter name is used by Stow, 
and is the one by which it is known to-day. It is a short street in 
Clerkenwell, between Clerkenwell Green and Cow Cross. It was 
long a noted haunt for harlots and disorderly people. Cf. Beaumont 
and Fletcher's Scornful Lady, 3. 2 : 

Here has been such a hurry, such a din. 

Such dismal drinking, swearing, and whoring, 

'T has almost made me mad: 

We have all liv'd in a continuall Turnball-street. 

Also 2 Hen. IV, 3. 2. 326. 



INDUCTION. 

5. I £E. The personal and confidential tone assumed by the Stage- 
keeper in addressing the audience, shows unmistakably the influence 
of Plautus' prologues (cf. the prologues of the Captivi and Poenulus). 

5. 2 e'en vpon comming. Upon, used adverbially to express 
progress and approach in time. Cf. Meas. for Meas. 4. 6. 14: 
' . . . and very near upon the duke is entering.' 

5. 3 Proctor. The English form of the Latin procurator, denotes 
a person who acts for another, and so approaches very nearly in 



138 Bartholomew Fair 

meaning to agent. In a sense now only of historical interest, the 
word denoted a practitioner in the ecclesiastical and admiralty courts ; 
the proctor was a qualified person licensed by the archbishop of 
Canterbury to undertake duties performed in other courts by 
solicitors. — Encyc. Britan. 

5. 5 He playes one o'the Arches. A proctor of the Court of 
Arches, held in Bow Church. Cf. 11. 17 and note, also Pepys' 
Diary, Feb. 4, 1662-3. 

5. 9 Master Broome. Richard Brome, the dramatist, who died 
about 1652. He was of humble origin, and at this time was in the 
service of Jonson. Cf. Jonson's lines on Brome's Northern Lass 
(1632) : 

I had you for a servant once, Dick Brome, 

And you performed a sei-vant's faithful parts; 
Now you are got into a nearer room 

Of fellowship, professing my old arts. 
And you do do them well, with good applause. 

Which you have justly gained from the stage. 
By observation of those comic laws 

Which I, your master, first did teach the age. 

Underwoods, 28. 

5. 13 humors. Mood natural to one's temperament, peculiar 
characteristics. Cf. Ev. Man Out, Induct. ; Mer. Wives, i. i. 3, etc. ; 
Hen. V, 2. I ; also Nares' Glossary. 

5. 14 Bartholmew-birds, Familiar characters, flitting about 
and generally haunting the Fair. Judging from Ursula, Knockem, 
Whit, Edgworth, and others, we should think that the Poet's 
acquaintance with them was amply sufficient for any but the most 
whimsical of stage-keepers. Cf. 97. 13. 

5, 15 ne're a Sword, and Buckler man in his Fayre. Popular 
combats with the sword and buckler date back to the Middle Ages 
and even to the Saxon gleemen. Fuller says in 1662 : 'West 
Smithfield was formerly called Ruffian Hall, where such men usually 
met, casually or otherwise, to try masteries with sword and buckler; 
more were frightened than hurt, hurt than killed therewith, it 
being accounted unmanly to strike beneath the knee. But since that 
desperate traytor Rowland Yorke first used thrusting rapiers, swords 
and bucklers are disused' (cited by Strutt, Sports, 261). The 
change to the rapiers just mentioned, occurred about the last of 
the sixteenth century. 

5. 16 little Dauy. Cf. Tarlton's Jests, 161 1 (reprinted in Shakes- 
peare's Jest-Books) : 

How Tarlton fought with Black Davie. 

Not long since lived a little swaggerer, called Blacke Davie, who would at 
sword and buckler fight with any gentleman or other for twelve pence. He 



Notes 139 

being hired to draw upon Tarlton for breaking a jest upon huffing Kate, a 
punke, as men termed her, one evening, Tarlton comming forth at the Court 
gate, being at Whitehall, and walking toward the Tilt yard, this Davie drew 
upon Tarlton who on the sudden, though amazed, drew likewise, and enquired 
the cause; which Davie denied, till they had fought a bout or two. 

W. C. Hazlitt describes Black Davie as 'A bully who probably 
attached himself to houses of ill-repute and took part with the 
inmates against visitors.' 

5. 17 Kind-heart. An itinerant tooth-drawer frequently alluded 
to by contemporary writers. He is the one who delivers the invec- 
tives in Henry Chettle's Kind Hart's Dreame, 1592 (reprinted in 
Percy Soc. Early Eng. Poetry). Cf. Rowland, The Letting of 
Humours Blood in the Head Vaine: 

Not as kind-heart, in drawing out a tooth; 
For he doth ease the patient of his pain. 

Thornbury (i. 161-2"), describing his quackery, calls him 'the 
greatest cheat in Christendome.' Cf. Pan's Anniversary : 'A tooth- 
drawer is our foreman, that if there be but a bitter tooth in the 
company, it may be called out at a twitch : he doth command any 
man's teeth out of his head upon the point of his poignard; or 
tickles them forth with his riding rod : he draws teeth a horseback 
in full speed, yet he will dance a foot, he hath given his word : he 
is yeoman of the mouth to the whole brotherhood, and is charged 
to see their gums be clean and their breath sweet, at a minute's 
warning.' 

5. 18 lugler with a wel-educated Ape. The performances of 
trained animals were ever popular at the Fair. The actions of 
the ape as described, showed the feeling against Spain and the 
Catholic religion, intensified by James' well known project for an 
alliance with Spain. When Prince Henry died in 1612, James saw 
his project thwarted; but he considered the same match for Charles 
as early as 1614 (cf. Gardiner's Hist, of Eng. 488). Bartholomew 
Fair, with its freedom and natural spontaneous humor, was an 
excellent mirror of the popular sentiment of the day. (For repro- 
duction of an old cut of a juggler and tumbling ape, see Strutt, 241.) 

Cf. Donne, Sat. i : 

But to a graue man hee doth moue no more 
Then the wise politique horse would heretofore, 
Or thou, O Elephant, or Ape, wilt doe. 
When any names the k[ing] of Spaine to you. 

5. 24 and. A conditional conjunction meaning 'if; usually 
written an by later writers. This second form is found as early as 



140 Bartholomew Fair 

1600, but it is and or an' that is uniformly employed in the first 
print of Bartholomew Fair. 

5. 24- 6. 2 'The earthquake . . . i'the Fayre, made by some 
writer that I know, alludes, I think, to The Faithful Friends V, i 
(by Daborne? who retired in 1614), "if we must down, let us make 
an earthquake tumbling." ' — Fleay, Chron. Eng. Drama, i. syy. 

6. 4 kick'd me three, or foure times about the Tyring-house. 
Cf. 113. 9, where Lantern says our Tiring-house is somewhat little, 
. . . you cannot goe vpright in 't; very likely these allusions were 
satirical, referring to the insufficient accommodations of the dressing- 
room. 

6. II Innes o'Court. The well known colleges for the study 
of law; the Temple (Inner and Middle), Lincoln's Inn, and Gray's 
Inn. They received the name. Inns of Court, in the reign of Edward 
II, because their inhabitants belonged to the King's Court (Bray- 
ley, Londiniana). An excellent illustration of the character of the 
witty young masters is to be found in one of their number, con- 
spicuous in our play, Quarlous (cf. 73. 24). They were prominent 
at times among the gallants who sat on the stage and occasionally 
interrupted the play. Sir John Davies in an epigram on the 
theatre speaks of 'the clamorous fry of Inns of Court' (cited by 
Traill, 3. 569). Fleay (Chron. Eng. Drama, i. 377), sees a direct 
allusion in the Pumpe and wity young masters o'the Innes o'Court 
to the 'stately fountain' in the Gray's Inn Mask of Flowers, 1614, 
Jan. 6. 

6. 13 Richard Tarlton was a comic actor of enormous popularity 
during the reign of Elizabeth (he died 1588). In 1583, on the 
institution of the Queen's Players, he was one of the twelve chosen 
to form the company, and remained one of the Queen's actor- 
servants till his death. He had a remarkable power of extempore 
wit, and is said to have started the people laughing when he 'first 
peept out his head'. He was also credited with the ability to divert 
Queen Elizabeth when her mood was least amiable. It has been 
conjectured with great likelihood that in Hamlet's elegy on Yorick, 
Shakespeare was paying a tribute to his memory. His fame was 
of long duration; Gifford says that it retained its power among the 
vulgar until the Revolution. — D. N. B. 

6. 16. coozened i'the Cloath-quarter. Probably an allusion to 
Tarlton's jest, 'How fiddlers fiddled away Tarlton's apparel', the 
substance of which is as follows : Some London musicians, in 
return for his benefactions and friendship, gave him a morning 
serenade at the Saba tavern, where he was staying. He at once 
arose and recognized the attention by drinking muscadine with 
them. A cony-catcher who had seen Tarlton pass out in his night- 



Notes 141 

gown made oflf with his apparel. The news of this spread, and 
the next day, when Tarlton was playing at the Curtain, some one 
threw him a theme, consisting of five lines in doggerel alluding to 
his loss, to which Tarlton at once replied in kind. 

From early times the Fair had been divided virtually into two 
parts, that within and that without the Priory. The cattle-market, 
shows, and amusements (the scene of our play) occupied most of 
the space outside, while the more orderly Cloth Fair was within. 
For two centuries preceding, and virtually as long as there was 
need of such an institution, Bartholomew Fair was the great cloth 
fair of England. And during that period when cloth ranked first 
among the products of the nation's industry, the Fair had a most 
important influence on the history of English commerce. As early 
as Elizabeth's reign, however, its greatness as a cloth fair had begun 
to decline. To show the immense business that could be transacted 
during the few days of a fair, I cite Defoe's description of Stour- 
bridge Fair, a century later {Tour thro' the Island of Great Britain, 
I. 93-94, 2d ed.) : Tn this Duddery, as I have been inform' d, there 
have been sold One Hundred Thousand Poundsworth of Woolen 
Manufactures in less than a Week's time; besides the prodigious 
Trade carry'd on here by Wholesale-Men from London, and all 
Parts of England, who transact their Business wholly in their 
Pocket-Books, and meeting their Chapmen from all Parts, make 
up their Accounts, receive Money chiefly in Bills, and take Orders : 
These, they say, exceed by far the Sales of Goods actually brought 
to the Fair, and deliver'd in Kind ; it being frequent for the London 
Wholesale Men to carry back Orders from their Dealers for ten 
Thousand Pounds-worth of Goods a Man, and some much more.' 

6. 17 Adams, the Rogue. An actor with Tarlton, according to 
Fleay {Chron. Eng. Drama, i. ::i77). 

6. 18 dealt his vermine about. In the rough sport, the fieas 
which often infested the huge, padded trunk hose would be dis- 
turbed and scattered. 

6. 20 a substantial! watch to ha' stolne in vpon 'hem, etc. 
Whalley regards this as a certain sneer at Shakespeare, a satire on 
Much Ado, 4. 2. Dogberry's words, 'But, masters remember that 
I am an ass', are somewhat similar to the stage-keeper's seven lines 
above ; and the blundering watch taking away Conrade and Borachio 
is paralleled here. The watch, however, had become almost a 
by-word for pompous stupidity, so common were their mistakes. 
It was a subject for ridicule in other plays besides Shakespeare's 
(of. Ordish, Shak. London, 190). Thus the allusion to Shakes- 
peare's play, which Gifford will not admit to be such, at least is not 
sharply defined. As GiflFord has observed, the 'sneer' is not very 



142 Bartholomew Fair 

effective in the mouth of an absurd coxcomb who is immediately 
driven from the stage. 

6. 26 the vnderstanding Gentlemen o'the ground. The ground 
was the pit, somewhat lower than the stage, usually without seats 
so that the people stood to behold the play (Collier, Hist. Dram. 
Poetry, 3. 335). It was the cheapest place of admission, and was 
frequented by apprentices, servants, etc. Hence it became the com- 
mon theme for punning allusions. Only a few lines later (7. 24) 
we have the grounded Judgements and vnderstandings. Cf. Hamlet, 
3. 2. 9; also Underwoods, 22. 

6. 29 broken Apples for the beares within. Apples were 
commonly sold at the theatres by 'costardmongers', and this 
passage indicates that the refuse was given to the beares within 
(the animals kept for the bear-baiting exhibits, for which, when 
remodelling the Hope, the stage had been made in a frame sup- 
ported by trestles, so as to be easily removed). 

7. I such a youth as you. If he had kept the stage in Tarl ton's 
time (it was twenty-six years since the comedian's death), he must 
have been fairly advanced in years at this time. Thus a playful touch 
was intended in calling him youth. 

7. 13 the Hope. A bear-garden occupied the site many years 
before and after the theatre, hence the present Bear Gardens (a 
short street starting from the Bankside just above South wark 
Bridge). In August, 1613, the Bear-garden was torn down and 
the Hope Theatre was erected, 'convenient in all things both for 
players to play in, and for the game of bears and bulls to be baited 
in the same'; in size and general plan it was similar to the Swan 
Theatre. The Globe had been destroyed by fire shortly before, and 
an attempt was made to secure its patronage before it could be 
rebuilt. Unsuccessful in this, after about two years the Hope 
again became a bear-garden. For a small picture of the theatre, 
reproduced from Visscher's View of London, 1616, see Ordish, 
Early London Theatres, 126. An excellent idea of its general fea- 
tures may be gained from the contract for its construction between 
Philip Henslowe and Jacob Maide, and Gilbert Katherens, cited in 
Boswell's Malone's Shakespeare, 3. 343-347, ed. 1821. 

Bankeside. Still known by this name. This was the old haunt 
of vice. In its vicinity the Stews had flourished, and here, in 
Jonson's time, were located most of the theatres (Globe, Hope, Rose, 
and Swan). See the Plans of Southwark and the Bankside in 
Harrison's Descript. of Eng. 2. 66. 

7. 16 the one and thirtieth day of Octob. 1614. This fixes with 
certainty the time of the first performance of Bartholomew Fair. 
A few local allusions later in the play indicate that the time of 



Notes 143 

writing preceded production only by a short interval (cf. note 
on 31. 24). 

7. 22 Spectators. Jonson commonly showed little respect or 
tolerance for the spectators, meaning those who were always looking 
about and chiefly interested in the dress of the actors and audience. 
Cf. Staple of News, Prologue : 'Would you were come to hear, not 
see a play.' Also, the Prologue for the Court of the same play : 

. . . the vulgar sort 
Of nut-crackers, that only come for sight. 

The spectators are here classed with the curious, in contrast with 
the hearers and iiidicious. 

8. I and to offend none. There were those who went to the 
theatre, notebook in hand, ready to catch the slightest allusion that 
might have a personal or political significance. 

8. 3-4 Cf. Dekker's The Gul's Horn-Booke: 'And that your 
Car-man and Tinker claime as strong a voice in their suffrage, and 
sit to giue iudgement on the plaies life and death, as well as the 
prowdest Momus among the tribe [s] of Critick.' 

euery person here, haue his or their free-will of censure. 
On the peculiar use of pronouns, see Abbott, p. 24. 

8. 6 six pen'orth, etc. These prices are higher than those charged 
by most of the theatres of the time. A partial explanation is that 
it was a 'first night', when according to Kiechel (see below) the 
prices were double. Traill says (3. 569) : 'In Elizabeth's reign 
prices varied from a penny to a shilling; in the next reign they 
rose. Twopenny rooms or boxes and the twopenny gallery are 
often mentioned, but sixpence seems to have been the most usual 
fee. The St. Paul's private theatre had no seats at less than four- 
pence.' In Rye's England, 88, we have Samuel Kiechel's observa- 
tion, 1585 : 'It may indeed happen . . . that the players take 
from fifty to sixty dollars [fio to £12] at a time, particularly if 
they act any thing new, when people have to pay double. And 
. . . they perform nearly every day in the week ; notwithstanding 
plays are forbidden on Friday and Saturday, this prohibition is 
not observed.' Cf. Marston, Malcontent, Induct. : Sly. 'But I 
say, any man that hath wit may censure, if he sit in the twelve- 
penny room; and I say again, the play is bitter.' Also Dekker, 
The Gul's Horn-Booke, Works, 2. 247: 'When your Groundling 
and gallefy Commoner buyes his sport by the penny.' 

8. 9 his place get not aboue his wit. The whole Induction is 
a good-humored satire on the ignorance and poor taste of the 
audience, the especial cause being the lack of appreciation shown 
Catiline. It is probable that Ben would have rated the wit of most 
of his audience hardly as high as sixpence, had he published his 
estimates. 



144 Bartholomew Fair 

8. 12 as they doe for lots at the lottery. Besides the private 
lotteries, not infrequent at this time, there were a few much larger 
and public. 'The King's maiestie in speciall favor for the pres- 
ent plantation of English Colonies in Virginia, granted a liberall 
Lottery, in which was contained five thousand pound in prizes 
certayne, besides rewards of casualitie, and began to be drawne, in 
a new built house at the West end of Paul's the 29th of June, 1612. 
. . . This Lottery was so plainely carryed, and honestly performed, 
that it gave full satisfaction to all persons.' — Cited by Ashton, 
History of English Lotteries, 28. Arber's English Garner, i. 77-100, 
contains an interesting description of a lottery under the following 
title : 'The Great Frost. Cold doings in London, except it be at 
the Lottery. With News out of the Country. A familiar talk 
between a Countryman and a Citizen touching this terrible Frost, 
and the Great Lottery, and the effects of them.' [1608]. 
, 8. 25 leronimo. Written about 1585-7; an enlarged edition was 
published in 1602, the additions (as indicated by entries in Hens- 
lowe's Diary) being made by Jonson. The popularity of the new 
form was very marked, and further editions followed rapidly (1603, 
161 1, 1615, 1618, 1623, 1633, etc.). For a discussion of Jonson's 
authorship of the additions, see Boas' Thomas Kyd, Ixxxv-lxxxix. 
No other play in Jonson's time or in the generation following, 
received such ample recognition in the way of quotation by other 
dramatists. Cf. Alchem. 4. 4: 

Thou must borrow 
A Spanish suit; hast thou no credit with the players? . . . 
Hieronimo's old cloak, ruff, and hat will serve. 

(Jonson here may have had in mind the costume which he himself 
had worn ; for according to Dekker [v. Satiro-mastix] he had once 
played the part of Hieronimo.) See also, for allusion or quota- 
tion, Ev. Man In, i. 4; Cynthia's Revels, Induct.; Poetaster, 3. i; 
Alchem. 3. 2; New Inn, 2. 2; Tale of a Tub, 3. 4; K. John, 2. i; 
3 Hen. VI, 5. 6; T. of Shrezv, Induct, i. 

Andronicus. Cf. Henslowe's Diary, 2,Z '■ 1593-4- 'Rd at titus and 
ondronicus, the 23 of Jenewary iii^ viii^'. Collier says this entry 
is marked ne, a sign used by Henslowe to distinguish the original 
production of a play, so this fixes its date. The sum received for 
admissions is considerably larger than usual, and is an evidence of 
the popularity of this sanguinary drama. Titus Andronicus was 
entered in the Stationers' Registers, 1594: printed, 1600. 

8. 26 vnexcepted at. This verb occurs nowhere else, so far as 
I know. However, cf. 'He excepts at Gassendus's animadverting 
on Aristotle's manners.' — Glanvill, 1665 (cited by N. E. D.). 

9. 9 in as good Equipage. Dress, 'get up'. 



Notes 145 

9. 12-15 meditant, searchant, etc., are formed in imitation of the 
heraldic terms in -ant. 

9. 15 a Seruant-monster, etc. 'Our author, and who can help 
it, is still venting his sneers at Shakespeare. The servant-monster 
is the character of Caliban in the Tempest: the nest of antiques 
is the clowns who dance in the Winter's Tale ; and, lest he should 
be thought not to speak plainly enough, he expressly mentions those 
plays in the next sentence.' — W. On the other hand, Gifford as 
usual champions Jonson's cause, and in a long note contends that 
no such allusion is evident, arguing that drolleries was a term 
commonly applied to puppet-shows, and that the Tales and Tempests 
that make nature afraid were no other than puppet-plays that had 
been given at the Fair, such as The Creation of the World, The 
Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, The Story of Jonas and the 
Whale; that the nest of antiques was accordingly characters or 
beasts of the puppet-plays ; and that as this was a time when 
monsters, which were extremely popular, were commonly exhibited 
near the puppet-plays at the Fair, the servant-monster would refer 
not necessarily to Caliban. Whether there is allusion to Shakes- 
peare's plays or not — and though Malone, Steevens, and Coleridge 
take nearly the same ground as Whalley, everything in the context 
is so directly connected with the Fair that I find myself inclined to 
Gifford's position — it is altogether too good-natured to be classed 
among 'the base and silly sneers at Shakespeare,' as Coleridge char- 
acterizes them (Literary Remains, 2. 283). Even Whalley in a later 
portion of the note whch I have partially cited, admits that the 
satire was designed 'not so much to ridicule Shakespeare for his 
invention, as the passion of the mob for spectacle of this kind.' 

9. 31 Mirror of Magistrates. The Mirror for Magistrates, a 
large work, consisting of poems on 'The Falles of Vnfortvnate 
Princes'. It was begun by William Baldwin [not R. Baldwine, as 
Gifford, citing Whalley, says], who published the first four poems 
m 1559. The greater part of the work is by John Higgins, who 
published his contributions in 1587. It was republished by Richard 
Niccols in 1610. This title with variations was used repeatedly by 
writers of the time ; e. g. The Mirror for Mutability, Mirror of 
Mirth, A Mirror for Magistrates of Cities, Mirror for Mathematics, 
Mirror of Monsters, etc. 

10. 6-9 to challenge the Author ... of prophanenesse. 
Cf. Statutes of the Realm: 1605-6. 5° Jac. I. c. 21, 22: 'For the 
preventing and avoyding of the greate Abuse of the Holy Name of 
God in Stageplayes Interludes Maygames Shewes and such like; 
Be it enacted by our Soveraigne Lorde the Kings Majesty, and by 
the Lordes Spirituall and Temporall, and Commons in this present 
Parliament assembled, . . . any person or persons doe or shall 



146 Bartholomew Fair 

in any stage play . . . jestingly or prophanely speake or use 
the holy Name of God or of Christ Jesus, or of the Holy Ghoste 
or of the Trinitie, which are not to be spoken but with feare and 
reverence, shall forfeite for everie such Offence by hym or them 
committed Tenne Pounde, the one Moytie thereof to the Kings 
Majestic his Heires and Successors, the other Moytie thereof to 
hym or them that will sue for the same in any Courte of Recorde 
at Westminster, wherein no Essoigne Proteccion or Wager of Lawe 
shalbe allowed.' 

Profanity was extremely common. Stubbes says : 'It is vsed and 
taken there for a vertue. So that he that can lashe out the bloudiest 
othes, is coumpted the bravest fellowe: For (saie thei) it is a 
signe of a coragious harte, or a valiaunt stomacke, & of a generoseous, 
heroicall, and puissant mynde. . . . By continuall vse whereof, 
it is growne to this perfection, that at euery other worde, you shal 
heare either woundes, bloud, sides, harte, nailes, foote, or some 
other parte of Christes blessed bodie, yea, sometymes no parte 
thereof shalbe left vntorne of these bloudie Villaines' (Anat. of 
Abuses. 132-3). 

ID. 16 as durty as Smithfield, and as stinking euery whit. 
It is not strange that at a time when small attention was given to 
tjtie cleanliness of private houses, a public theatre where also bear- 
baitings frequently took place should have been dirty and ill-smelling. 
Of the filth of Smithfield Morley says : 'Rain, and the cattle brought 
thither for sale, had made the place almost impassible.' 'Bartholo- 
mew Fair in a wet August before the year 1614 must have been a 
slough of pleasure, difficult indeed to struggle through.' It was paved 
1614-15 by the order of the king at an expense of £1600. 

ID. 20-22 This is a reference to the 'Commodity' swindle, com- 
mon at this time, and the subject of many allusions in contemporary 
literature. It was practiced upon young gallants in need of ready 
money. Greene in his Defence of Cony-Catching {Works, 11. 53) 
tells of a man who in borrowing £100, could obtain only £40 in 
silver, and had to take the other £60 in 'wares, dead stuffe God 
wot; as Lute strings. Hobby-horses,' etc. In Middleton's Michael- 
mas Term there is a fine example of the trick. Easy cannot borrow- 
any ready money from Quomodo, but secures on his bond the loan 
of £200 in very cheap woolens, which Quomodo buys back through 
his secret agent for £60. We can well imagine that those of Jonson's 
audience who had invested in £60 worth of hobby-horses would not 
be particularly interested in seeing them on the stage. Wheatley in 
his Every Man in his Humour, 119, cites the following from E. 
Guilpin (1598) : 

He is a gull, that for co7>nnoditie 

Pays tenne times ten, and sells the same for three. 



Notes 147 



ACT I. 

II. 4 Harrow o'th hill. Ten miles northwest of London, and 
occupying the only hill in that region ; known for its famous school. 

II. 12 One o'the pretty wits o'Pauls. The middle aisle of St. 
Paul's, commonly called 'Duke Humphrey's Walk' or 'Paul's Walk', 
was the common news-room of London ; here lawyers received their 
clients, the unemployed looked about for masters, accounts were 
settled, and the gallants passed many idle hours. The wits and 
poets gave it various names: 'Thieves' Sanctuary', 'Little Britain', 
'World's Epitome', 'Babel of stones and men', 'Synod of politic 
pates', 'Busy parliament', 'Mint of lies', etc. (cf. Thornbury, i. 114). 
A. 3, Sc. I of Every Man Out of his Humor is laid at the 'Middle 
Aisle of St. Paul's'; so also is Middleton's Michaelmas Term, i. i. 

II. 17 out o'the Archdeacons Court, etc. Probably another 
allusion to the Court of Arches, where Littlewit was a proctor. 
This was the Archbishop's court, but archdeacons may have pre- 
sided when petty matters were considered. Strype, i. 513, gives 
the following description of this Court (cited by Wh. Cun. i. 508) : 
'It was a court formerly kept in Bow Church in Cheapside, and 
the church and tower thereof being arched, the court was from hence 
called the Arches, and so still is called. Hither are all appeals 
directed in ecclesiastical matters within the province of Canter- 
bury. To this court belongs a judge, who is styled the Dean of the 
Arches; so called because he hath a jurisdiction over a deanery in 
London, consisting of thirteen parishes [formerly], exempt from the 
jurisdiction of the Bishop of London.' 

11. 18 lack. A common name for a serving-man or scullion. 

12. 4 Budge-row. 'A street so called of the Budge fur, and 
of skinners dwelling there.' — Stow. It is the east end of Watling 
Street. 

12. 6 like the Spanish Lady. The English in their excessive 
fondness for dress borrowed styles from France, Spain, and many 
other countries. Allusions to Spanish shoes are not infrequent at 
this time, especially referring to the leather; the best was cordovan, 
from Cordova. The shoes worn in James' reign, as described and 
illustrated by Planche, are for the most part very low, hardly more 
than slippers. I know of nothing very definite regarding the Spanish 
lady and her high shoes. 

12. 15 A poxe o'these pretenders, to wit. The pretenders 
were Jonson and his circle, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, etc., 
who frequented these taverns, especially the Mermaid. The Three 
Cranes was situated on Upper Thames Street at the top of what is 
still known as Three Cranes Lane, just below Southwark Bridge. 



148 Bartholomezv Fair 

This tavern was much frequented by the booksellers. The Mitre 
is mentioned in some of the early vestry books, as on Cheapside, 
and also as on Bread Street ; probably it was situated back from 
the main thoroughfare, approached by passages from both of the 
streets mentioned. The Mermaid was situated on Bread Street, 
Cheapside. Cf. Epigram 133: 

At Bread-street's Mermaid having dined, and merry, 
Proposed to go to Holborn in a wherry. 

Inviting a Friend to Supper: 

A pure cup of rich Canary wine, 

Which is the Mermaid's now, but shall be mine. 

Also Beaumont's well-known lines in his Letter to Ben Jonson. 
A. 5, sc. 4 of Every Man Out of his Humor is laid at the Mitre; 
cf. Middleton's Your Five Gallants, 2. i : 

Where sup we, gallants? ... 
Why, the Mitre, in my mind, for neat attendance, 
diligent boys, and — push! excels it far. 

13. I I challenge all Cheapside, to shew such another. Long 

before this as well as after, Cheapside was famed for its silk-mer- 
cers, linen-drapers and hosiers. 

Morefields, A fen outside of the city walls, to the north. It 
had been drained nearly a century previous, but was not laid out in 
walks until 1606. A vestige of the name still survives in Finsbury 
(or Fensbui-y) Square and Finsbury Circus. 

13. 2 Pimlico path. A popular resort during the summer months 
near Hoxton. 

the Exchange. This was the first Royal Exchange built 1566- 
1570, and destroyed in the Great Fire of 1666. 

13. 9-1 1 Winwife's figurative description of Littlewit's delicates, 
suggests a London quite different from that of to-day. Then, it 
was but a short walk beyond the north wall to the uncleared forests, 
where Ursula probably got the green boughs to trim her booth, and 
there were gardens even in the center of the city. Cf. Richard III, 
3- 4- 34: 

When I was last in Holborn, 

I saw good strawberries in your garden there: 

I do beseech you send»for some of them. 

13. 20 a fine young father i'law, with a f ether. Many of the 
hats worn at this time were exceedingly plain, absolutely without 
ornament. But Dekker in his //orw-5oo^^ (1609) observes: 'When 
your noblest Gallants consecrate their houres to their Mistresses and 
to Reuelling, they weare fethers then chiefly in their hattes, being 



Notes 149 

one of the fairest ensignes of their brauery.' Cf. Middleton's Roar- 
ing Girl, 2. I : 

What feather is't you'd have, sir? 
These are most worn and most in fashion: 
Amongst the beaver gallants, the stone riders. 
The private stage's audience, the twelve-penny-stool gentlemen, 
I can inform you 'tis the general feather. 

Cokes after his many humiliations at the Fair still finds pride in 
recalling that at least at the beginning of the day he wore a feather 

(ii3- 13)- 

13. 21 might hood it, and chaine it. An unusual expression, 
the force of which rests on the rank and dignity earlier signified by 
the wearing of a hood and of a chain. Those privileged to wear 
a gold chain a century before had been designated by law (v. 
Statutes of the Realm, 7° Henry VIII. c. 6). Dame Purecraft, if 
married to Winwife, a gentleman, would acquire rank that would 
permit her to make a display and assume airs of importance such 
as Mrs. Overdo, a justice's wife, affected. Cf. note on 23. 20. 

13. 27 winke vpon. Cf. T. G. of Ver. 2. 4. 98 : 'Upon a homely 
object Love can wink.' Our idiom to 'wink to' or 'at', however, 
was also used at this time. 

13. 28 one (Master Quarlous). A certain Master Quarlous. 
The punctuation is improved by omitting the parenthesis, and plac- 
ing a comma after Quarlous. 

13. 30 tokenworth. See note on token, 39. 15. 

14. 5 natiuity-water cast lately by the Cunning men. Lilly in 
his History of his Life and Times tells how people of high rank 
sent urine to him ; for by this means, it was commonly believed, the 
future could be foretold and secrets revealed. Cf. Butler's Hudibras, 
2. 3. 105: 

Quoth Ralph, Not far from hence doth dwell 
A cunning man, hight Sidrophel, 
That deals in destiny's dark counsels. . . . 
To him with questions, and with urine. 
They for discov'ry flock, or curing. 

Subtle in the Alchemist was a cunning man, though of another type. 
Drummond gives further testimony in the Conversations of Jonson's 
knowledge of these gifted men and their art : 'He can set horo- 
scopes, but trusts not in them. He with the consent of a friend 
cousened a lady, with whom he had made ane apointment to meet 
ane old Astrologer, in the suburbs, which she keeped; and it was 
himself disguysed in a longe gowne and a whyte beard at the light 
of dimm burning candles, up in a little cabinet reached unto by a 
ledder.' 



150 Bartholomew ■ Fair 

14. 6 Cow-lane. Now King Street, running from Smithfield 
to Snow Hill. 

14. 9 and when it is. Is, equivalent to 'happens' or 'comes to 
pass'. Cf. Mer. of Venice, 5. 176 : 'An 'twere to me, I should be 
mad at it.' 

14. 13 Bedlem. 'Then an hospital of St. Mary of Bethelem, 
founded by Simon Fitz Mary, one of the sheriffs of London, in the 
year 1246. ... In this place people that be distraight in wits 
are, by the suit of their friends, received and kept as afore, but not 
without charges to their bringers in.' — Stow, Survey of London, 
62. The site of the original hospital is on Liverpool Street, near 
Bishopgate, within. In 1815 the present Bethlehem Hospital was 
completed, which is located on Lambeth Road, St. George's Fields. 
The name popularly is still Bedlam. By the beginning of the 17th 
century, Bethlehem Hospital had become one of the sights of Lon- 
don ; thus in Epicoene, 4. 2, Lady Haughty advises the young bride 
to tame her husband by making him attend her to the sights of 
London : 'And go with us to Bedlam, to the china-houses, and to 
the Exchange.' 

14. 16 confederacy. Conspiracy. 'The trick was well under- 
stood at this period, and still better in that which immediately fol- 
lowed. Foreman, and most of the cheats celebrated by that prince 
of imposters, Lilly, seem to have derived their chief support from 
it.'— G. 

14. 17 practice vpon her. Trickery against her. 

14. 23 Elder. Busy seems to have been one of the lay clergy 
who, without any training or authorization, began to preach as 
impulse moved them, relying on voluntary contributions for their 
support. 

14. 24 Banbury. For more than a quarter of a century previous, 
Banbury had been a stronghold of Puritans. Thomas Brasbridge 
ceased to be its vicar in 1590, because he objected to the monarch's 
ecclesiastical usurpation. In 1602 the citizens in their zeal destroyed 
the public cross and defaced the ornaments of the cathedral. Wil- 
liam Whately, vicar of Banbury, 1610-1640, was called the 'Roaring 
Boy of Banbury'; his disciple and biographer Scudder says of 
him : 'According as his matter in hand and his auditory needed, 
he was both a terrible Boanerges, a son of thunder, and also a Barna- 
bas, a son of sweet consolation.' — (Cited by Morley, Mem. 180). 
Fuller seems to have identified him with Rabbi Busy: 'Indeed he 
was a good linguist, philosopher, mathematician, divine; and 
(though a poetical, satirical pen is pleased to pass a jeer upon him) 
free from faction.' — (Cited by Morley, Mem. 181). 



Notes 151 

To Banbury came I, O prophane one! 
There I saw a Puritane one 
Hanging of his cat on Monday, 
For killing of a mouse on Sunday. 

Brathwaite, Drunken Barnaby's Four Journeys 
(cited in Chambers' Book of Days). 

14. 25 that the sweet singers may be restor'd. Since the Con- 
venticle Act of Elizabeth, 1593, the Puritans had not been allowed 
to worship independently, and those who had persisted in doing so, 
were imprisoned, and in certain cases kept in captivity without trial 
for a long term of years. 

14. 27 the spirit is so strong with him. IVith and not 'within' 
him, since Busy regarded his zeal as a spirit quite outside him, which 
took possession and directed his speech and actions as in apostolic 
times. Cf. 127. 17. 

14. 29 Aqua coelestis. 'Not, I believe, what Horace calls aqua 
coelestis, but some kind of strong water ; perhaps aqua vitse or 
brandy.' — G. 

14. 34 He cannot abide my Vocation. This is also the first 
charge against the actors, brought by Busy in his controversy with 
the puppets (127. 24). Evidently his favorite point of attack. 

14. 36 Beast. Anti-Christ; cf. Rev. 13. 2; 20. 4. 

15. 1-2 The proctor's duties were similar to those of a solicitor. 
Cf. note on 5. 3. 

15. 6 ha' you tane soyle, here? To take soil, to run into the 
water or a wet place, as an animal when pursued ; hence to take 
refuge or shelter.' — C. D. 

15. 9 vngentle manly houres. The gallant usually did not rise 
till about noon. 

15. 10 one of these Rag-rakers. It is interesting to note how 
old is the custom, common in all our large cities, of rag-pickers' 
raking over the contents of refuse piles, early in the morning when 
scarcely any one is stirring. Cf. Alchem. i. i : 

When you went pinn'd up in the several rags 

You had raked and pick'd from dunghills, before day. 

15. II or some Marrow-bone man at most. Marroiv-bones 
was often used for 'knees' with a somewhat humorous significance; 
e. g. Dekker, Works, i. 114. A Marrow-bone man was a praying 
man ; he rose very early in his zeal to attend to his devotions, 
perhaps also to escape religious persecution. Cf. The Puritan, 2. 1 : 
(Lady Plus speaking of her dead husband, who was a Puritan) 'A 
man that would keep church so duly ; rise early, before his servants, 
and even for religious haste, go ungartered, unbuttoned, nay (sir 
reverence) untrussed, to morning prayer.' 



^ 



152 Bartholomeiv Fair 

15. 17 Lime-hounds. Dogs used in hunting the wild boar, so 
called from being led by a lime or leam. 

15. 18 sent. An old and historically more correct spelling of 
scent. <ME. senten <F. sentir <L. sentire. The old spelling still 
appears in the compounds 'assent', 'dissent', etc. — C. D. 

15. 19 a hot night. Hot because of the wine, etc. Cf. modern 
slang. 

15. 20 shal we pluck a hayre o' the same Wolfe. 'A proverbial 
phrase for getting intoxicated again, with the same liquor.' — G. 

15. 24 Discourse is here used transitively; cf. Hamlet, 3. 2. 374: 
'It will discourse most eloquent music' 

15. 27 harke you Sir, had you forgot. Irregular sequence of 
tenses, not uncommon among the Elizabethans ; cf. Abbott, p. 269. 

16. 2 'Jonson had the Greek adage in his thoughts, Mtcw jUVT/yiAoya 

ffVflTTOTrjV.' — G. 

16. 15 Compare this with the readiness with which she listens 
to Whit's evil persuasions (A. 4), but a few hours later. 

16. 27 fall in. Become reconciled. Cf. Troi. and Cres. 3. I. 112: 
'Falling in, after falling out, may make them three.' 

16. 32 Apple-Iohn. A variety of apple ; also a nickname applied 
to the disreputable Shift in Ev. Man Out. The significance of its 
use here, according to Gififord, consists in the punning allusion to 
'apple-squire', a pimp or procurer. Greene mentions the latter term 
as used by rogues (cf. Works, 10. 2>7)^ being applied to a bawd, if 
a man. 

if you vse this. If you make a practice of this. 

16. 33 for my respect somewhat. Partly out of respect due 
to me. 

17. I in possibility. A vestige of Quarlous' quondam acquaint- 
ance with barristers and law books at the Inns of Court. Possi- 
bility is a legal term, still used of contingent interests. 

17. 3 To Totnam to eat creame. Tottenham, for so many years 
known as a popular pleasure resort, even at this time apparently 
had something of such a character. 

17. 5 drawing after an old reuerend Smocke by the splay- 
foote. Drawing after is a hunting term applied to a dog's approach- 
ing the game by the scent. Thus Quarlous says that Winwife is 
guided in his widow-hunting by the splay-foot (broad flat foot 
turned outwards) ; i. e. he seeks only the old and ugly. 

17. 7 Tripe or Trillibub. The two words are practically identi- 
cal in meaning, and are used figuratively for any worthless person. 

17. 8 nosing it. Another of Quarlous' hunting metaphors. 

17. 10 Buffe was leather of a dull, whitish-yellow color (prop- 
erly of buffalo) generally made from the hide of an ox, used by ser- 
geants and others for jerkins. 



Notes 153 

Pannyer-alley. 'Leading from Paternostei- row into Newgate 
street. It took its name from the sign of a pannier anciently at 
one corner of it, and, in Jonson's days, was chiefly inhabited by 
tripe-sellers.' — G. 

17. 19 according to thy inches. As Whalley observed, this 
was probably suggested by Juvenal, Sat. i. i. 41 : 'Partes quisque 
suas ad mensuram inquinis heres.' 

17* 23 quartane ague. 'A malarial fever in which the par- 
oxysms recur on every fourth day.' — 5. D. 

17. 24 black laundise. A kind of jaundice where the coloration 
of the skin is especially dark (known in medicine as the black 
icterus). 

17. 25 Spinner. A spider ; cf. M. N. Dream, 2. 2. 20. 

17. 31-34. The saying of grace at meals was a rite the Puritans 
were very careful to observe. Stubbes says (p. iii) : 'We ought 
neuer to take morsell of bread, nor sope of drinke, without humble 
thankes to the Lord for the same.' The Puritans were satirized by 
other dramatists for long graces ; cf. Middleton, Family of Love, 
i- 3: 'I do use to say inspired graces, able to starve a wicked man 
with length' ; also Marston, Sat. 2 : 

And at the op'ning and at our stomach's close, 
Says with a turn'd-up eye a solemn grace 
Of half an hour. 

17. 36 painefuU eaters. 'Eaters', 'feeders', and 'cormorants', not 
uncommonly were used as synonymous with servants. See Epicoene, 
3. 2. (Cun. G. 3. 394), Ev. Man Out, 5. i (Cun. G. 2. 159), and 
notes on both passages. 

18. 3 Knoxe. He had been dead forty-two years, but his influ- 
ence and personality were still strongly felt. 

18. 5 hum-ha-hum. In the Alchemist, 3. 2, Subtle similarly 
alludes to the Puritans' 'long-winded exercises', and to their sucking 
up their 'ha! and hum! in a tune.' 

18. 7 Apostle-spoones. 'They were of a round bowl, with a little 
head at the end, and twelve in a set ; from whence they had the 
name of apostle-spoons. There was anciently a certain unguent or 
electuary which from the number of its ingredients was called apos- 
tolorum.' — W. 'The spoons had their name from the figure (not 
merely the head) of an apostle, with which they were generally 
ornamented. These and caudle cups formed almost the only arti- 
cles of plate which the middling rank of people possessed in the 
poet's days ; hence they were esteemed handsome bequests, presents 
at christenings, etc. The allusions to this custom are endless in our 
old dramatists.' — G. 



154 Bartholomew Fair 

i8. i8 Master Bartholmew Cokes — his man. Of this use of 
his the N. E. D. says, 'Chiefly with proper nouns, but also with 
others. Found already in OE., but most prevalent from c. 1400 to 
1750; sometimes identified with the genitive inflexion -es, -is, -ys, 
esp. in iG-iyth c, when it was chiefly (but not exclusively) used 
with names ending in -s, or when the inflexional genitive would have 
been awkward. Archaically retained in Bookkeeping and for some 
other technical purposes.' In chap. 13 of The English Grammar, 
Jonson speaks of 'the monstVous syntax of the pronoun his joining 
with a noun betokening a possessor.' 

18. 26 a Baker. It is interesting to note this early allusion to 
Banbury cakes, which are still popular. Cassell dates their fame 
from as early as 1608. 

18. 29 a scruple hee tooke. He afifected. 

18. 31 May-poles. The reason for Busy's objections may be 
learned from Stubbes' Anatomy of Abuses, 149 : 'But the cheifest jewel 
they bring home from thence [the woods] is their May-pole, which 
they bring home with great veneration as thus. They haue twentie or 
fourtie yoke of Oxen, euery Oxe hauing a sweet nose-gay of flouers 
placed on the tip of his homes ; and these Oxen drawe home this 
May-pole (this stinking Ydol, rather) which is couered all ouer with 
flouers and hearbs, bound round about with strings from the top 
to the bottome, and sometime painted with variable colours, with 
two or three hundred men, women and children following it with 
great deuotion. And thus beeing reared vp, with handercheefs and 
flags houering on the top, they straw the ground rounde about, binde 
green boughes about it, set vp sommer haules, bowers, and arbors 
hard by it. And then fall they to daunce about it, like as the 
heathen people did at the dedication of the Idols, whereof this is 
a perfect pattern, or rather the thing it self.' 

Morrisses. Brand quotes the following description of a Morris- 
dance contained in a rare old poem, Cobbe's Prophecies, his Signes 
and Tokens, his Madrigalls, Questions and Answers, 1614: 

It was my hap of late, by chance, 
To meet a country Morris-dance, 
When, cheefest of them all, the Foole 
Plaied with a ladle and a toole; 
When every younker skak't his bels, 
Till sweating feete gave fohing smels: 
And fine Maide Marian with her smoile 
Shew'd how a rascall plaid the roile: 
But when the hobby-horse did wihy, 
Then all the wenches gave a tihy: 
But when they gan to skake their boxe, 
And not a goose could catch a foxe, 
The piper then put up his pipes. 
And all the woodcocks look't like snipes. 



Notes 155 

Cf. Chambers, Mediceval Stage, vol. i, chaps. 8, 9; also Brand, Pop. 
Antiq. For cuts of a morris-dancer and of a May-pole celebration 
see Stubbes, Anat. of Abuses, 28,* 22* 

18. 35 they haue all such names. Cf. Alchem. 3. 2: 

Nor shall you need to . . . call yourselves 
By names of Tribulation, Persecution, 
Restraint, Long-patience, and such like, affected 
By the whole family or wood of you. 

Witnesse. Cf. Magnetic Lady, 4. 3 : 

I come to invite your ladyship 
To be a witness; I will be your partner, 
And give it a horn-spoon, and a treen-dish. 

In the Puritan, i. 3, there is reference to the same scruple in the 
'un-godmother'd varlcts.' 

18. 37 you thought her name had beene. A perfect tense in 
the object clause following a perfect tense in the main clause, occurs 
also many times in Shakespeare; v. have i) in Schmidt for examples. 

19. 4 a Blew-starch-woman. Colored starches were much in 
vogue at this time. The attitude of the Puritans toward this vanity 
is shown by Stubbes {Anat. of Abuses, 52) : 'The one arch or piller 
whereby his [the devil's] kingdome of great ruffeg is vnderpropped, 
is a certaine kind of liquide matter which they call Starch, wherin 
the deuill hath willed them to wash and diue his ruffes wel.' 

ig. 5 A notable hypocriticall vermine it is. It is for 'he', an 
uncommon use in the middle of a sentence; vermine is to be under- 
stood figuratively, referring to Busy. 

19. 6 stands vpon his face. Face, equivalent to 'appearance'. 
Cf. modern slang. 

ig. 14 Antiquity. Classical learning. 

19. 16 ha' not to doe. Again the shorter form as in 18. 20, 
where modern English customarily uses a periphrasis. 

19. 20 god you good morrow. The emendations of i6g2, 1716, 
and W, are quite uncalled for. This ellipsis occurs not infrequently 
elsewhere. Cf. Rom. and Juliet, 2. 4. 115: 

God ye good morrow, gentlemen. 
God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. 

19. 25 I am no Clearke, I scorne to be sau'd by my booke, 
i'faith I'll hang first. Of interest as suggesting an event in Jonson's 
own life. When he killed Gabriel Spencer in a duel in 1598, he 
was brought to trial, and only escaped the death-sentence by plead- 
ing the benefits of clergy. Jeaffreson found the record of this in 
the Middlesex Sessions Rolls (cf. Athenaeum, March 6, 1886). At 
the head of the indictment was printed the Clerk of the Peace's 



156 Bartholomew Fair 

memorandum (in Latin) : 'He confesses the indictment, asks for 
the book, reads like a clerk, is marked with the letter T, and is 
delivered according to the statute, etc' 

20. 7 egges o'the Spit. Cf. Ev. Man In, 3. 3, where Cob says : 
'Nay, soft and fair; I have eggs on the spit; I cannot go yet, sir.' 
On which Wheatley observes : 'This is an old proverb, meaning to be 
busy.' He cites other proverbs relating to roasting eggs : 'Set a 
fool to roast eggs and a wise man to eat them'; 'There goes some 
reason to the roasting of eggs.' In As Y. Like It, 3. 2. 38, Touch- 
stone says : 'Truly, thou are damned, like an ill-roasted egg all on 
one side.' A century later the same phrase was used by Swift in 
his lournal to Stella (April 23, 1713) : 'I write short journals now. 
I have eggs on the spit. This night the Queen has signed all 
warrants. . . .' 

20. 9 Numps, Corruption of 'Humphrey'. 

20. 14 Marke. An early English money of account, not a coin; 
a weight usually of eight ounces (two thirds of a troy pound). 
Its value from the thirteenth century on was 13s. 4d. In Middleton's 
Chaste Maid in Cheapside, 2. i, the same amount is also men- 
tioned as the price of a wedding license: 

Touch, sen. How, a license? 

Touch, jun. Cud's foot, she's lost else! I shall miss her ever. 
Touch, sen. Nay, sure thou shalt not miss so fair a mark 
For thirteen shillings fourpence. 

20. 28 The Cloister later became one of the most corrupt places 
in all the Fair. Strype describes it in 1720: 'A passage from King 
Street into Smithfield, through a fair cloister, well paved with free- 
stone. On both sides of which are rows of shops, most taken up by 
semstresses and milliners.' — Cited by Wh. Cun. i. 114. 

21. 2 A plague o'this box, and the poxe too. Pox: 'As used 
by the writers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the word 
generally means smallpox.' — C. D. But cf. 45. 19, 48. 36, also 2 Hen. 
IV, I. 2. 258, 273, where syphilis is plainly referred to. The word 
seems to have been used in both senses. 

21. 10 veluet-custerd. Cf. T. of the Shrew, 4. 3. 82: 

It is a paltry cap, 
A custard-coffin, a bauble, a silken pie. 

This was one of the popular French hoods, round and somewhat 
sloping like the crust of a thick pie (the old custard-coffin). For 
cuts of French hoods, see Planche, i. 298. 

21. 23 ff. Dryden, in his Essay on Dramatic Poesy {Works, 15. 
353). comments on Jonson's practice of describing the characters 
before they appear: 'Thus, in Bartholomew Fair, he gives you the 



Notes 157 

pictures of Numps and Cokes, and in this [Epicoene] those of Daw, 
Lafoole, Morose, and the Collegiate Ladies ; all which you hear 
described before you see them. So that before they come upon the 
stage, you have a longing expectation of them, which prepares you 
to receive them favorably; and when they are there, even from 
their first appearance you are so far acquainted with them, that 
nothing of their humour is lost to you.' 

21. 24 making and marring. Puns on the game of this name 
were very common among the dramatists. It was forbidden in the 
second and third year of Philip and Mary, by 'An Acte to make 
Voyde dyvers Lycences of Houses wherein unlawfull Games bee 
used.' The act includes 'Bowlying Tenyse Dysyng White & Blacke 
Making & Marrying', etc. 

21. 32 if hee meete but a Carman, etc. Cf. 2 Hen. IV, 3. 2. 340, 
where Falstafif says that Shallow sang '. . . those tunes to the 
overscutched huswives that he heard the carmen whistle, and sware 
they were his fancies or his good-nights.' 

21. 33 finde him not talke to keepe him off. Do not chance 
upon a subject of conversation to keep him away. 

21. 34 whistle him, and all his tunes ouer. A confusion of 
figurative and literal language; whistle him, equivalent to 'whistle 
his tunes'. 

21. 35 a head full of Bees. Eccentric whims ; cf. modern slang. 

22. 4 manner of peece. Kind of person. Cf. Tempest, i. 2. 56: 
'Thy mother was a piece of virtue.' 

22. 10 crosse and pile. 'An old game with money, at which 
the chance was decided according as the coin fell with that side up 
which bore the cross, or the other, which was called pile, or reverse : 
equivalent to the "heads and tails" of the present time.' Pile has 
its name from the 'small pillar of iron engraved on the top with 
the image to be given to the under side o^ coin stamped upon it; 
hence, the under side or reverse of the coin itself.' — C. D. 

22. 29 Gib-cat. Tom-cat. Gib is a contraction of Gilbert. 1760 
is the date of the first citation in N. E. D. showing change to the 
present name. Cf. Dekker, Works, 2. 146, where Mercury speaks of 
'a Cobler of Poetrie called a play-patcher . . . condemned with 
his cat to be duckt three times in the Cucking-stole.' 

22. 30 Hodge. 'A familiar by-form and abbreviation of the name 
Roger; used as a typical name for the English agricultural laborer 
rustic'.— A''. E. D. 

22. 30-36 Cf. Overbury's Characters: A Country Gentleman: 
'Nothing under a sub poena can draw him to London : and when 
he is there, he sticks fast upon every object, casts his eyes away 
upon gazing and becomes the prey of every cutpurse.' 



158 Bartholomew Fair 

22. 31 would name you all the Signes ouer, as hee went. At 

a time when only a small proportion of the population could read, 
the old picture-sign was indispensable. For a great deal of inter- 
esting material see Larwood and Hotten's History of Signboards. 
Cuts opposite pp. 464, 488, 512, show the appearance of London 
streets when even as late as 1760 there was a sign in front of each 
shop. Their great variety is shown by the names of the chapters 
in the book referred to : 'Historic and Commemorative Signs', 
'Heraldic and Emblematic', 'Animals and Monsters', 'Saints and 
Martyrs', 'Trades and Professions', 'Humorous and Comic', etc. 

22. 32 a Parrat, or a Monkey. These probably were in the 
shops or shop-windows, calculated to appeal to the almost insatiable 
appetite of the people for marvels ; cf. note on monsters, 52. 12. 

22. 36 Bucklers-bury. Originally extending from the east end 
of Cheapside to Charlotte Row ; it was greatly shortened by the 
construction of Queen Victoria Street. It seems to have been chiefly 
known at this time for its grocers and apothecaries. It was the 
latter who sold tobacco. Wheatley gives the following quotation 
from Westward Ho, 1607: 'Go into Bucklersbury and fetch me two 
ounces of preserved melounes (melons) ; look there be no tobacco 
taken in the shop when he weighs it.' 

23. 5 allow of John's reading at any hand. Approve of John's 
interpretation on any condition. 

23. 8 and all. Also. 

23. 10 What, the mischiefe. What is often used as equivalent 
to 'why' in elliptical expressions. Cf. Rom. and Juliet, 1. 5. 57: 
'What dares the slave come hither — ' 

23. 14 your fourteene shillings worth of small ware. Refer- 
ring to the box containing the license. 

23. 20 Mary gip. 'Probably originated from By Mary Gipcy 
="by St. Mary of Egypt" ; but it became confused with this word 
[i. e. gip, in sense of 'get out', 'go long with you'].' — N. E. D. 
It is in the latter sense that Waspe uses the quasi-oath here. 

Mistris French-hood. The French hood was the most con- 
spicuous article of dress that Mrs. Overdo wore, and her frequent 
allusions later prove her great satisfaction in it. The different 
classes in London were not entirely distinguished by dress, yet the 
French hood was in general a sign of rank, and consequently was 
affected by some of the lower classes. Cf. Elegy 61 : 

Commended the French hood and scarlet gown 
The lady may'ress passed in through the town. 
Unto the Spittle sermon. 

A vivid description of one of its forms is given by Stubbes (Anat. 
of Abuses, 69) : 'Than, on toppes of these stately turrets (I meane 



Notes 159 

their goodly heads wherein is more vanitie than true Philosophie 
now and than) stand their other capitall ornaments, as french hood, 
hat, cappe, kercher, and suche like ; whereof some be of veluet, some 
of taffatie, some (but few) of woll, some of this fashion, some of 
that, and some of this color, some of that, according to the variable 
fantasies of their serpentine minds. And to such excesse is it 
growen, as euery artificers wyfe (almost) wil not stick to goe in 
her hat of veluet euerye day, euery marchants wyfe and meane 
Gentlewoman in her french-hood, and euerye poore Cottagers Daugh- 
ter in her taffatie hat, or els of woll at least, wel lined with silk, 
veluet or taffatie.' 

24.2 VVhetston. (George Whetstone I544?-I587?) An author 
of some repute in his day. The titles of several of his works sug- 
gest that they might have furnished epigrammatic and sententious 
remarks. The following may have been referred to in the present 
allusion: 'A Mirour for Magestrates of Cyties. Representing the 
Ordinaunces, Policies, and Diligence of the Noble Emperour, Alex- 
ander (surnamed) Severus to suppresse and chastise the notorious 
Vices noorished in Rome by the superfluous nomber of Dicing-houses, 
Tavarns, and common Stewes : suffred and cheerished by his beast- 
lye Predecessour, Helyogabalus.' A new title-page introduced 'An 
addition or a Touchstone for the Time', which gave in detail an 
account of the disreputable aspects of London. — D. N. B. 

24. 9 For the use of the preterit to denote the concluded past 
as opposed to the future, see Maetzner, 2. 86. 

24. 26 Cosset. 'A pet lamb, especially one reared by hand.' — 
5-. D. 

24. 29 This is the first hint that Quarlous and Winwife are 
about to devote themselves to Grace. It will be noticed that Quar- 
lous is the quicker of the two; in general Winwife is content to 
follow his lead. 

such a Cokes. The appropriateness of the young squire's name 
is made evident by Ford's Lover's Melancholy, 4. 2 : 'A kind of 
cokes, which is, as the learned term it, an ass, a puppy, a widgeon, 
a dolt, a noddy.' — Cf. Case is Altered, 5. i : 

Wilt thou believe him, and he made a cokes, 
To wait on such an antique weathercock? 

24. 32 sober. Modest. 

25. 4 it selfe. Yourself. Usage had not defined at this time 
in what sense it was to be employed. Of the confusion of it with 
other pronouns, Shakespeare also affords many examples. 

25. 16 it will bring you to some obscure place in time. There 
is a hint of foul play in Quarlous' warning, and Winwife imme- 
diately follows with similarly feigned alarm. Obscure =z'^\oomy' . 



i6o Bartholomezv Fair 

25. 21 ouer buy. Pay too high a price for. 

26. 7 with his Sir Cranion-legs. Gifford says, 'Small, spider- 
like legs'; he also observes that Cranion is the fairy appellation 
for a fly, and cites Drayton's Nimphidia: 

Four nimble Gnats the Horses were. 

Their Harnasses of Gossamere, 
Flye Cranion her Chariottere, 

Vpon the Coach-box getting. 

26. 17 who can hold that will away. 'Them' supplied after 
hold makes the meaning clearer. Gififord observes that this is a 
proverb of some age, and cites from Dunbar : 

And Prudence in my eir says ay, 
Quhy wad you hold that will away? 

26. 22 for that too. Also. 
26. 25 stone. Testicle. 

26. 27 Katerne-peare. Catherine pear, a small and early variety. 

27. 2 Batt. A contraction of Bartholomew through the inter- 
mediate form, Bart. 

27. 3 fancy to the Fayre. Cf. Much Ado, 3. 2. 37 : 'Unless he 
have a fancy to this foolery.' 

27. 4 none goes thither of any quality or fashion. This sug- 
gests the interesting question. How was the Fair regarded in Jon- 
son's time? The extreme Puritans, as Busy's words and behavior 
indicate, were opposed to it. Later, in 1678, the London corporation 
discussed suppressing, or at least limiting, it on moral grounds. On 
the other hand, in 1663-8, Pepys notes visiting it repeatedly, accom- 
panied sometimes by his wife, and again by some of the nobility. 
Walford, in commenting on Prince George's visiting the Fair with 
his train in 1740, says : 'This event gave fashion to the fair, and, 
indeed, it had never been considered derogatory for persons in the 
first rank and fashion to partake in the broad humour and theatrical 
amusements of the place.' And in the National Review, 8. 438, 
there is the statement : 'In Charles II's reign Smithfield saw as much 
good company as Bath under the despotism of Beau Nash.' (Is this 
not, however, an exaggeration?) In 1614 the Fair had neither the 
great popularity that it shared with other amusements in the Res- 
toration, nor did it experience the stern hostility that it encountered 
from the Puritans just before the Revolution. Two other passages 
in our play are important in this connection, and indicate that the 
Fair at this time was hardly Beau Nash's watering-place: 42. 8 ff., 
where Quarlous and Winwife show that they feel superior to the 
common people of the Fair, and express annoyance in being 
approached by the gingerbread woman and hobbyhorse man as likely 
customers ; and 57. 26, where Quarlous observes in regard to Dame 



Notes i6i 

Purecraft : Shee that will venture her selfe into the Fayre and a 
pig boxe, will admit any assault, be assur'd of that. Prudes and 
rigid moralists staid away, but probably not so strictly as from the 
theatres. The middle and lower classes were naturally much more 
conspicuous in number; however, Grace's real objection to the Fair 
was not because it was common, but because she must visit it in 
the company of Cokes. For a modern equivalent the visitors of 
Bartholomew Fair might well be compared with the frequenters of 
Coney Island. 

27. 6 O Lord, Sir! Used elsewhere, as well, when conversing 
with women. In All's Well,, 2. 2, the Clown thus constantly pre- 
faces* his remarks to the Countess, who finally turns the exclama- 
tion to ridicule. 

27. 12 and directly to the Fayre. After modal verbs, infini- 
tives of motion are frequently omitted. Another example is in 
1. 18, must to the Fayre. 

27. 24-26 The parenthesis contains Littlewit's invocation to the 
Muse. Her prompt answer follows in the next line. Similarly in 
Act 5 Busy calls on his divinity. Zeal (127. 17). 

27. 27 long to eate of a Pigge, sweet Win, i'the Fayre. 
'This', says Symonds, like the wrath of Achilles in the Iliad, is 
the motive-passion of the comedy.' 

27. 29 Pye-Corner. Pie Corner, the Smithfield end of Gilt- 
spur Street. Its name was taken from an inn on this site, the 
'Sign of the Pie' (the bird). This was just at the entrance of 
the Fair proper. 'Pye-Corner — noted chiefly for Cooks' shops, and 
pigs drest there during Bartholomew Fair.' — Strype, 3. 283 (cited 
by Wheatley). Cf. Alchem. 1. i: 

. . . at Pie-corner, 
Taking your meal of steam in, from cooks' stalls. 

28. 3 has maintain'd us all this seuen yeere. Cf. Dame Pure- 
craft's own statement as to the profits from her hypocrisy (108. 
28 ff.). 

28. 9 beauteous discipline. 'So the pretended reformation of 
the church was at this time affectedly called by the Puritans', 
remarks Gifford, who had as little sympathy with the Puritans as 
Jonson. Cf. Alchem. 3. i : 

This heat of his may turn into a zeal, 

And stand up for the beauteous discipline. 

28. 21 The very common belief in witchcraft gave opportunity 
for all kinds of quackery. Thornbury says : 'Every noble had his 
astrologer, much more every monarch ; and Elizabeth consulted 
Dr. Dee who saw spirits.' Cf. his chapter on Witchcraft, 2. 112 ff. 

28. 23 motion. Instigation. 



i62 Bartholomew Fair 

29. 13 In many ways Busy suggests another great religious hypo- 
crite, Moliere's Tartuffe. The latter is also a glutton, and his 
admiring worshipper, Orgon, 'delights to see him eat enough for 
six' (Tartuffe, i. 2). 

29. 20 disease. See Glossary. 

29. 22 Bartholmew-pigge. From the earliest years roast pig 
was peculiarly associated with Bartholomew Fair, and long was its 
chief dainty. Cf. Works of D'Avenant (fol. 1673), 290: 

Now London's Chief, on Sadie new. 
Rides into Fare of Bartholemew: 
He twirles his Chain, and looketh big, 
As if to fright the Head of Pig, 
That gaping lies on greasy Stall, 
Till Female with great Belly call. 

29. 34 a spice of Idolatry. Cf. Acts 15. 29: 'That ye abstain 
from meats offered to idols,' etc. 

29. 36 high Places. Constantly mentioned in the Old Testament; 
they were connected with the worship of the Canaanites and other 
heathen tribes, and many times enticed the Children of Israel into 
idolatry. 

30. 14 tents of the wicked. Cf. Numbers 16. 26, Psalms 84. 
ID. Busy constantly employs Biblical phrases, yet seldom quotes 
directly. This was in keeping with his ignorance ; Jonson thus 
avoided associating the Scriptures with him in ridicule. 

30. 32 Rabby Busy. Busy is jocosely given the title Rabbi be- 
cause of his constant use of Biblical language and figures, particu- 
larly of the Old Testament ; cf. 31. 3 and note. 

30. 35 comfort to the weake. Cf. i Thessalonians 5. 14. 

30. 36 I will eate exceedingly. Gififord calls attention to the 
similar satire in The Puritan (1607), 3. 3: 

Nich. Say that I am gone to a fast. 

Sim. To a fast? Very good. 

Nich. Ay, to a fast, say, with master Full-belly the minister. 

Sim. Master Full-belly? An honest man: he feeds the flock well, for 

he's an excellent feeder. 

Frail. O ay; I have seen him eat a whole pig, and afterward fall to the 
pettitoes. 

prophesie. 'By prophecy . . . the Puritans meant those ex- 
temporaneous rhapsodies which they sometimes poured out in the 
heat of their preaching.' — G. 

31. 3 loathing of ludaisme, whereof the brethren stand taxed. 
Dr. E. N. S. Thompson suggests that this is an allusion to the 
Jewish tendencies in derision charged against the Puritans because 
of their constant use of Biblical language and illustration. 'The 
custom of eating a gammon of bacon at Easter, which is still kept 



Notes 163 

up in many parts of England, was founded on this, viz. to shew 
their abhorrence to Judaism at that solemn commemoration of our 
Lord's resurrection.' — The Customs and Manners of the English; 
from a manuscript in the library of Thomas Astle, cited in The 
Antiquarian Repertory. 

31. 6 could neuer away. Could never agree with. Cf. 2 Hen. 
IV, 3. 2. 213: 

Shal. She never could away with me. 

Fal. Never, never; she would always say she could not abide Master 
Shallow. 



ACT II. 

31. 15 Linceus. Lynceus, one of the Argonauts, famous for his 
keen sight, whence the proverb : d^vrepov ^X^ireiv toO AvyK^cjs. Cf. 
Aristophanes, Pluiiis, 210. 

peircing. Similarly, peirsh, 53. 5. For the interchange of e and 
i, cf. freinds, 122. 8, and feinds, 46. 16, which, according to N.E.D., 
are variants occurring between the thirteenth and seventeenth cen- 
turies. 

Epidaurian serpent. Cf. Horace, Sat. i. 3. 26: 

. . . in amicorum vitiis tarn cernis acutum 
Quara aut aquila aut serpens Epidaurius. 

31. 17 Quorum. 'Originally certain justices of the peace, usually 
of eminent learning or ability, whose presence was necessary to 
constitute a bench.' — A^.E.D. 

31. 24 S. This is a local allusion of great importance. The 
worthy worshipfull man, sometime a capitall member of this City, 
was a person no less distinguished than the Lord Mayor of London, 
Sir Thomas Hayes ; and his tour of personal visitation to the places 
where the laws were violated, here eulogized by Overdo, he himself 
describes in a letter, dated 8th July, 1614, to the Lord Chamberlain, 
'detailing the steps taken by him since his appointment for reforming 
what he found out of order in the City.' The substance of the 
letter is given in the Analytical Index to Remembrancia, 358-359: 
'He had informed himself, by means of spies, of many lewd houses, 
and had gone himself disguised to divers of them, and, finding these 
nurseries of villany, had punished them according to their deserts, 
some by carting and whipping, and many by banishment. Finding 
the gaol pestered with prisoners, and their bane to take root and 



164 Bartholomew Fair 

beginning at ale-houses, ... he had taken an exact survey of 
all victualling houses and ale-houses, which were above a thousand, 
and above 300 barrels of strong beer in some houses, the whole 
quantity of beer in victualling houses amounting to above 40,000 
barrels ; he had thought it high time to abridge their number and 
limit them by bonds as to the quantity of beer they should use, 
and as to what orders they should observe, whereby the price of 
corn and malt had greatly fallen. The Bakers and Brewers had 
been drawn within bounds, so that, if the course continued, men 
might have what they paid for, viz. weight and measure.' 

31. 27 Dog-killer, in this moneth of August. 'In the East 
there are certain months in the year during which the police 
authorities pay a fixed reward for every dead dog brought to them, 
the object being as much to keep down their numbers as to guard 
against madness, and with this view a larger price is paid for bitches 
than for dogs. The practice is to stun them with a heavy stick, 
and so it must have been in London, according to Taylor, the 
Water Poet: 



And last the dog-killer's great gains abounds 

For brayning brawling curs, and foisting hounds.' 



— Cun. 



31. 29 goe you. Supply 'for', just as in take you, 1. 26. Cf. 
Abbott, 146: 'Me, thee, him, &c. are often used, in virtue of their 
representing the old dative, where we should use for me, by me, etc' 
Cf. Tempest, i. 2. 244, i Hen. IV, i. 3. 98: 4. 3. 75. 

32. 9 would all men. Would that all men. The prevailing 
tendency was toward brevity in speech ; and this is so marked in 
Jonson as often to make his thought obscure. For other examples 
see 26. 10, 17; 35. 26; 57. 7, 21 ; 66. 21. 

32. 10 president. Whalley's emendation, 'precedent', adopted 
also by Gififord, is not without support, for the latter word was 
frequently confused with president. But as it is quite possible that 
president may have been intended to refer to the Lord Mayor, the 
change is not strictly warranted. 

32. 12 a foolish Constable, or a sleepy Watchman. The pom- 
pous stupidity of the watch, which had become almost a byword, 
has already been referred to. We have an illustration of it later 
in Haggise and Bristle. 

32. 17 an honest zealous Pursiuant, for a Seminary. The 
Pursivant was a state messenger employed to summon papists and 
offending Puritans before the spiritual courts (cf. Neal, i. 273). 
Seminary was a name familiarly applied to one who had studied 
abroad at a Catholic seminary; nine schools of this kind, located 
at Rome, Madrid, Ghent, etc., were established between 1569 and 



Notes 165 

1624 for the education of the English youth (Neal, i. 221). The 
seminaries were forbidden residence in England, and such as dis- 
obeyed were the objects of severe persecution. Cf. Stow's Annales, 
1217: 'The 19 of January [1586], Nicholas Deuerox was condemned 
for treason, in being made a Seminary priest at Reimes in France, 
since the feast of Saint lohn Baptist, in Anno primo of hir maiesties 
raigne, and in remaining here after the terme of fortie daies after 
the session of the last Parliament'. Also cf. Harl. Miscel. 3. 38 
(London, 1809). 

32. 20 by your leaue. The introduction of this conventional 
phrase into a soliloquy may seem strange, but finds its justification 
in that the Justice is speaking out of character and addressing the 
audience. This same phrase is the subject of a quibble in the 
drunken vapours, 92. 1-4. 

32. 25 courts of Pye-pouldres. Such courts in England seem 
to have originated with the fairs. They have existed at all the 
European fairs and at the Norman, Italian, and early Roman 
markets. Walford traces them back even to ancient Greece, and 
says : 'Demosthenes makes it plain that all causes relating to the 
festival of Bacchus were heard on the spot'. The jurisdiction of 
this court is well described in the Statutes of the Realm: 1477-8, 
17° Edw. IV. 'Item, Whereas divers Fairs be holden and kept in 
this Realm, ... to every of the same Fairs is of Right 
pertaining a Court of Py-powders, to minister in the same due 
Justice in this Behalf; in which Court it hath been all times accus- 
tomed, that every Person coming to the said Fairs, should have 
lawful Remedy of all manner of Contracts, Trespasses, Covenants, 
Debts, and other Deeds made or done within any of the same Fairs, 
during the Time of the same Fairs, and within the Jurisdiction of 
the same.' Cf. Blackstone's Commentaries, 3. 4. i : 'The lowest, 
and at the same time the most expeditious, court of justice known 
to the law of England . . . It is a court of record, incident to 
every fair and market ... its jurisdiction extends to administer 
justice for all commercial injuries done in that very fair or market, 
and not in any preceding one. So that the injury must be done, 
complained of, heard and determined, within the compass of one 
and the same day, unless the fair continues longer. The court hath 
cognizance of all matters of contract that can possibly arise within 
the precinct of that fair or market ; and the plaintiff must make oath 
that the cause of action arose there.' Its name is a corruption of 
the French pieds poudreux (dusty feet), as is shown by the follow- 
ing from the Regiam Majestatem, 1609, cited by Walford : 'Gif 
ane stranger merchand travelland throw the Realme, havand na 
land, nor residence, nor Dwelling within the schirefdome, bot 



i66 Bartholomew Fair 

vaigand fra ane place to ane other, quha therefore is called Pied 
Puldreaux, or dustifute.' A Court of Pie-powder still exists at 
Stourbridge Fair (near Cambridge), at the fair of Newcastle-upon- 
Tyne, etc. 

32. 26 during the three dayes sometimes to sit as ludge. The 
time of the Fair included St. Bartholomew's Day, the afternoon 
preceding, and the day following, August 23-25. 

32. 27 enormities. Breaches of the law. Cf. Addison, Guardian, 
116: 'There are many little enormities in the world, which our 
preachers would be very glad to see removed.' 

32. 28 this the cloud that hides me. An allusion to Aeneas, 
enveloped in a cloud which prevented his being seen as he entered 
Carthage (cf. Aeneid, 1. 412). 

32. 30 On Junius Brutus. While there is no very striking 
similarity between the Roman hero and Overdo, the comparison is 
strictly in keeping. To the Justice, his task is not less than that 
of saving the republic. 

32. 31 In Brome's The Weeding of the Covent-Garden, i. i 
(1658), Cockbrayne, a Justice of the Peace and the Weeder of the 
Garden, echoes these lines, 'And so as my Reverend Ancestor Justice 
Adam Overdoe, was wont to say^ In Heavens name and the Kings, 
and for the good of the Commonwealth I will go about it.' 

33. I The Fayre's pestelence dead. In 1593 and in 1603, no 
fair was held because of the plague then prevailing. The same 
happened later in 1625, 1665, and 1666. 

33. 9 As will be seen from the last clause of the Proclamation 
by City of London, which I quote in part, the selling of impure 
breadstuffs was illegal. A similar warning is to be found in the 
Crye in Sturbridge Payer, 1548, in substance repeated each year 
down into the nineteenth century. 

Proclamation by City of London. — 1604. 
The Right Hon. the Lord Mayor of the City of London, and his right 
worshipful Brethren the Aldermen of the said City, streightly charge and com- 
mand, on the behalf of our Sovereign Lord the King, that all manner of 
persons, of whatsoever estate, degree, or condition they be, having recourse 
to this fair, keep the Peace of our said Sovereign Lord the King. That no 
manner of persons make any congregation, conventicle, or affrays, by which the 
same peace may be broken or disturbed, upon pain of imprisonment and fine, 
to be made after the discretion of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen. Also that 
all manner of Sellers of wine, ale, or beer, sell by measures ensealed, as by 
gallon, pottle, quart and pint, upon pain that will fall thereof. And that no 
person sell any bread, but if it keep the assize, and that it be good and whole- 
some for man's body, upon pain that will fall thereof. — Cited by Walford, 191. 

33. 12 lone. Joan, a name common in the kitchen and cottage 
(Yonge's Hist, of Christian Names, i. 113). Cf. L. L. Lost, 5. 2. 939; 
also Epigram 42, On Giles and Joan. 



Notes 167 

33. 14 hobby-horses. Thus described by Strutt, Sports and 
Pastimes, 224: 'The hobby-horse which seems latterly to have been 
almost inseparable from the morris-dance, was a compound figure; 
the resemblance of the head and tail of a horse, with a light wooden 
frame for the body, was attached to the person who was to perform 
the double character, covered with trappings reaching to the ground, 
so as to conceal the feet of the actor, and prevent its being seen 
that the supposed horse had none. Thus equipped, he was to prance 
about, imitating the curvetings and motions of a horse.' 

33. 15 I pay for my ground. Stallage and piccage (money paid 
for the privilege of breaking ground for the erection of a booth) 
were the sources of considerable revenue to the lord of the fair. 

33. 16 for all thou art parcell-poet, and an Inginer. It is 
commonly agreed that in the character of Lanthorn Leatherhead 
Jonson had Inigo Jones in mind. Fleay notes in regard to this 
(Eng. Drama, i. 378) : 'That Lantern Leatherhead the puppet-man 
is Inigo Jones I cannot doubt. Jones had prepared the show part 
of Daniel's Tethys' Festival, 1610, June 5, just after the rupture 
between Jones and Jonson, who worked together till 1609, Feb. 2. 
He is "parcel poet and an inginer", his poetry consisting of his 
doggerel to Coryat's Crudities, 161 1, June 7. His "velvet jerkin" 
is mentioned [63. 27] ; he is sought for "at your great city suppers", 
such as the mask of the Four Seasons (q.v.), ''can set out a mask", 
and "engrosses all" [63. 25], (compare Dominus Do-all in The 
Expostulation) ; puts down Cokely as puppet-master (compare 
The Tale of a Tub), and "baited the fellow in the bear's skin", 
the "fighting bear of last year" in Love Restored (q.v.) ; he suc- 
ceeds Captain Pod as motion-master [106. 8] ; is the mouth of the 
dumb shows [113. 29] (compare The Expostulation with its "lantern- 
lerry" and Tale of a Tub with its "lantern-paper", which allude 
to the very name in this play) ; presents nothing but what is licensed 
by authority with the Master of the Revels' hand to it, etc., etc. 
This is all Jones.' Jones had gone to Italy in the summer of 1613, 
and was still absent at the time of the production of Bartholomew 
Fair. As Gifford has observed (he reluctantly admits that there 
may be possibly some allusion to Jones), there is nothing bitter 
or malignant in the satire. 

parcell-poet. 'Petty poet' ; 'poetaster' ; also used by Dekker in 
Satiro-mastix : 'the Parcell-Poets shall Sue thy wrangling Muse.' 
The same term occurs in Staple of Ncivs, 'Persons of the Play'; 
cf. parcel-gilt, 2 Hen. IV, 2. i. 94; parcel-guilty, Poetaster, 5. i. 

33. 17 and make a ballad of thee. This way of revenging one's 
self is also suggested in i Hen. IV, 2. 2. 48: Fal. 'An I have not 
ballads made on you all and sung to filthy tunes, let a cup of sack 
be my poison.' 



1 68 Bartholomew Fair 

33. 19 Arsedine. 'A gold-coloured alloy of copper and zinc, 
rolled into very thin leaf, and used to ornament toys, etc. ; "Dutch 
gold", "Manheim gold'".—N.E.D. 

33. 22 charme. 'To overcome or subdue'. — N.E.D. 

34. I What doe you lacke. 'Merchandise of almost every 
description was formerly "carried and cried" in the streets. When 
shops were little more than open shanties, the apprentice's cry of 
"What d'ye lack what d'ye lack my masters ?" was often accom- 
panied by a running description of the goods on sale, together with 
personal remarks, complimentary or otherwise, to likely and unlikely 
buyers'. — Tuer's Old London Street Cries. 

34. 10 wading. Making way against difficulties or embarrass- 
ments. 

34. 14 Ursula (cf. M.L. derivation, meaning a 'she bear') is 
certainly very appropriate for the huge, waddling pig-woman. The 
name seems to have been common, particularly among servants. 
Cf. T. G. of Ver. 4. 4. 122; Much Ado, 3. i. 4. 

who would weare out their youth. Their was often used instead 
of his when the antecedent was general. Even such ungrammatical 
forms as the following were not uncommon : 'But God send every 
one their heart's desire !' — Much Ado, 3. 4. 60. 

34. 17 what Moone-calfe. A comma after what, and an excla- 
mation point at the end, improve the punctuation. What is an 
exclamation of impatience (cf. Franz, 84, 157), as in /. Caesar, 
2. I. I : 'What, Lucius, ho !' Abbott, p. 54, suggests that some 
ellipsis is to be supplied, 'What (is the matter) ?' 

Moon-calf was a name commonly applied to ugly or deformed 
persons ; cf. Tempest, 2. 2. The original myth regarding the moon- 
calf is given by Pliny in his Natural History, 10. 64: 'Molas, 
de quibus ante diximus, gigni putant, ubi mulier non ex mare, verum 
ex semetipsa tantum conceperit', etc. 

34. 24-25 The comparison is between the zigzag or serpentine 
path that one makes as he walks, swinging a watering-pot, and 
that left by Ursula dripping perspiration as she waddled along. 
Cf. I Hen. H'^, 2. 2. 116: 

Falstaff sweats to death. 
And lards the lean earth as he walks along. 

34. 35 _ mornings dew. Cf. modern 'mountain-dew'. 

35. 4 Changeling. In the myth that fairies often change a new- 
born babe in its cradle, they are usually charged with substituting 
an infant that is ugly or stupid. This term of revilement was 
occasionally equivalent to 'idiot'. 

35. 7 Stote. Weasel ; he is called the latter name in 43. 22. 
It was appropriate because of his leanness, which must have made 



Notes 169 

him an amusing contrast to his fat mistress. Stole was also a 
term of contempt. 

35. II Punke, Pinnace and Bawd. 'The usual gradation in 
infamy. A pinnace was a light vessel built for speed, generally 
employed as a tender. Hence our old dramatists constantly used 
the word for a person employed in love-messages, a go-between in 
the worst sense, and only differing from a bawd in not being 
stationary'. — G. 

35. 26 Tapster. In apposition with hce, preceding line. 

35. 28 I will ha' made. There was confusion at this time in 
the use of 'shall' and 'will'. Will in the first person denoted futurity 
as well as purpose. 

35. 29 For a busy booth Ursula's stock of tobacco might seem 
absurdly small; but when one considers the price (cf. note 49. 29), 
and also the fact of its being sold by pipefuls, her supply is not so 
despicable. Traill (3. 572) mentions the letting of pipes by land- 
ladies, for which they charged the same as Ursula. 

all my whole. Cf. Mer. of Venice, 3. 4. 81 : 'I'll tell thee all 
my whole device'. 

tabacco. Fairholt, Tobacco, 46: 'The Spanish name, tabaco, 
given to it by Hernandez ultimately triumphed over all, and became 
(with slight variations) that universally recognized over the world. 
The Spaniards still use the name in its old purity of spelling; the 
Portuguese and Italians add an additional letter and term it tabacco; 
we alter the first vowel improperly and call it tobacco'. For theories 
regarding the uncertain origin of the name, see CD.; also Fairholt, 
14 flf. 

35. 30 Coltsfoot. The great popularity of tobacco and its high 
price gave many temptations to adulteration. Cf. Dr. Barclay of 
Edinburgh, Nepenthes, 1614 (cited by Fairholt, Tobacco, 71) : 
'Avarice and greedines of gaine have moved the marchants to 
apparell some European plants with Indian coats, and to enstal them 
in shops as righteous and legitimate tabacco . . . they sophisti- 
cate and farde the same [Florida tobacco] in sundrie sortes, with 
black spice, galanga, aqua vitae, Spanish wine, anise seedes, oyle of 
Spicke, and such like'. Also Alchem. i. i, where Face says of 
Drugger : 

He lets me have good tobacco, and he does not 
Sophisticate it with sack-lees or oil. 
Nor washes it in muscadel and grains. 
Nor buries it in gravel, under ground, 
Wrapp'd up in greasy leather. 

35. 31 be to seek in smoak. To seek: 'At a loss; without 
knowledge, experience or resources ; helpless : used adjectively, 
usually with be'. — CD. 



lyo Bartholomezv Fair 

35. 34 ff . Devices for giving small measures are naturally com- 
mon where trade is transient, as at a three days' fair. The small 
measures of ale are satirized in a description of Bartholomew Fair 
in 1655, cited by D'Urfey, Pills to Purge Melancholy, 4. 169: 

To London che came, hearing of the Fame 
Of a Fair they call Bartholomezv. . . . 

For a Penny you may zee a fine Puppet-play, 
And for Two-pence a rare piece of Art; 

And a Penny a Cann, I dare swear a Man, 
May put zix of 'em into a Quart. 

36. 5 mis-take away the bottles. Gifford says : 'This practice 
was so common, that the expression became a cant phrase for private 
stealing'. Cf. Masque of Augurs: 'To fetch bouge of court, a parcel 
of invisible bread and beer for the players (for they never see it) ; 
or to mistake six torches from the chandry, and give them one'. 
Also Donne, Sat. 5. 63-68. 

36. 17 O Tempera! O mores! Cf. Cicero, Catiline, i. 2. 

36. 18 this one grieuance. The selling of ale and beer accord- 
ing to standard measures was enjoined upon the traders of the Fair 
by the Mayor's Annual Proclamation (cf. note on 2>i- 9)- 

36. 26 Nephew. Used in anticipation of Aunt, 1. 34. 

36. 29 Arthur of Bradley. Long a proverbial and popular char- 
acter; there are many ballads about him, chiefly descriptive of his 
wedding. See Ebsworth's Choyce Drollery (166-175, 397-402), 
Merry Drollery (312-317). I cite the first two stanzas of a ballad 
on this character contained in the latter work (a reprint of the 
Merry Drollery, 1661) : 

Saw you not Pierce the Piper, 

His Cheeks as big as a Myter, 
Piping among the Swains 

That's down in yonder Plains: 
Where Tib and Tom doth tread it, 

And youths the hornpipe lead it, 
With every one his carriage 

To go to yonder Marriage, 
For the honour of Arthur of Bradly, 

O brave Arthur of Bradly, O fine Arthur of Bradly, 

O brave Arthur of Bradly, oh. 

Arthur hath gotten a Lass, 

A bonnier never was; 
The chiefest youths in the Parish 

Come dancing in a Morris, 
With Country Gambols flovincing, 

Country Wenches trouncing, 
Dancing with mickle pride, 

Every man his wench by his side. 
To the honour of Arthur, etc. 



Notes 171 

There is nothing in this or in the other versions of the ballad which 
I have seen, to indicate that Arthur was demented. Ebsworth, 
however, tells of a modern version attributed to a comic singer and 
actor, Taylor, at the beginning of the nineteenth century in which 
'the bridegroom is of a Petrucio cast, in disposition and attire', and 
thinks this had some traditional fragment of Elizabethan times for 
its origin. The dance accompanying this ballad was wildly merry 
and frolicsome, much used at weddings. Mooncalf's / ha bin one 
o'your little disciples means that he had joined in these gaieties. 
Cf. Robin Hood's Birth, Breeding, Valor and Marriage (printed in 
Dryden's Miscellany, 1716; included in Child's Ballads, 3. 217) : 

Before we came to it, we heard a strange shouting, 

And all that were in it lookd madly; 
For some were a bull-back, some dancing a morris. 

And some singing Arthur-a-Bradly. 

36. 34 Overdo, enthusiastic at the success of his disguise, is 
attempting to talk like a wild young gallant. 

37. 3 and thou drawest on holy daies. Analogous to 'holiday 
attire' ? 

37. 5 handsell. 'The first money taken by a trader in the morn- 
ing, a luck-penny'. — N.E.D. 

37. 7 Aunt. 'Gossip', and not 'bawd' as Whalley and Gifford 
think it means here. It is similarly used in M. N. Dream, 2. i. 51. 
Another meaning for aunt is given by Nares, but as it is not 
supported by the N.E.D. , it is to be distrusted: 'Aunt was also the 
customary appellation addressed by a jester or fool, to a female of 
matronly appearance ; as uncle was to a man. This appears in the 
justice's personification of a fool, Barth. Fair, act II, i, where he by 
no means intends to provoke the old lady, nor does she take offence'. 

37. 16-17 The route from Newgate to Tyburn was by way of 
Holborn ; after passing Fetter Lane and approaching to Farringdon 
Street, it mounted Holborn Hill, which disappeared together with 
the name, on the construction of Holborn Viaduct in 1869. Cf. 
Dryden's Limberman, 4. i ; 

Aldo. Daughter Pad, you are welcome: What, you have performed the last 
Christian office to your keeper; I saw you follow him up the heavy hill to 
Tyburn. 

37. 22 A cutpurse of the sword! the boote, and the feather. 

Cf. the rogue of to-day, interested in horses and the race-track, 
wearing clothes of the loudest pattern, and flashing a big diamond 
stud. 

37. 25 Turne-bull streete. Cf. note on Tnrnbull, 'Persons of 
the Play', p. 4. 



172 Bartholomew Fair 

37. 27 cowes vdders. Mammon (Alchem. 2. i), telling of the 
luxuries he is about to enjoy as he comes to wealth, mentions: 

the swelling unctuous paps 
Of a fat pregnant sow, newly cut off, 
Drest with an exquisite, and poignant sauce. 

38. 3 no malice in these fat folkes. This at once suggests the 
well known passage in /. Caesar, i. 2. 192: 'Let me have men about 
me that are fat', etc. 

38. 5 vapours. For this word, which occurs often in our play 
(sixty-nine times) and with various shades of meaning, we have a 
partial definition by the author (90. S. D.) : Their game of vapours 
which is nonsense. Euery man to oppose the last man that spoke: 
whethe it concern'd him or no. In this sense it means : A hectoring, 
bullying form of speech where there is constant contradiction, 
intended to arouse real or mock quarrels (cf. 38. 5, 43. 16, 90. i). 
It is further used, generally in the singular, but occasionally in the 
plural, in the sense of: Humor, disposition, conceit, fancy, caprice, 
whim (46. 2, 76. 3, 98. 25); and, again: 111 feelings or disorder 
(56. 32). There is also a transitive verb made from the noun: 
To hector with, bully or insult, in order to start a quarrel 
(46. 3. 5. 6, 7) ; To humor (41. 17). Coleridge observes {Literary 
Remains, 2. 283) : 'It is not often that old Ben condescends to 
imitate a modern author; but master Dan. Knockem Jordan and 
his vapors are manifest reflexes of Nym and Pistol'. And Gifford 
remarks : 'There is no doubt that this is an exact copy of the drunken 
conversation among the bullies, or roarers, of those times : It is, 
however, so inexpressibly dull that it were to be wished the author 
had been content with a shorter specimen of it. His object un- 
doubtedly was to inculcate a contempt and hatred of this vile 
species of tavern pleasantry; and he probably thought with Swift, 
when he was drawing up his Polite Conversation, that this could 
only be done by pressing it upon the hearer to satiety'. The follow- 
ing are the lines in which the word occurs ; the looseness with 
which the noun was used — the context often giving no clue to the 
precise meaning — would make it impracticable to classify these occur- 
rences according to significance: Noun sing. 41. 16, 18; 42. 35; 
46. 2 (twice) ; 76. 3; 91. 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 34; 92. 34; 93. 4, 6, 9, 14, 
22; 98. 25, 26, 28; 99. 24; 100. 8; 117. 5, 6, 26. Noun plural, 
38. 5, 8, 26, 27; 39. 6, 10; 40. 2>2,; 43- I3, 16, 18; 44. 17; 45. 34, 35; 
46. 8 (twice) ; 56. 32, 35; 57. 7; 89. 18; 90. i, 21, S. D. (twice) ; 
92. 15; 94. 6, 11; 96. 16; 98. 16; 99. 16; 116. 16, 28; 117. 20; 
122. 4, 5; 125. 23; 126. 26; 130. ID. Verb trans. 41. 17; 46. 3, 5, 
6,7. 



Notes 173 

38. 13 Dan. Knockum: lordane. Jordan seems to have been the 
name by which Knockem was famiHarly known among his associates, 
but not his surname as the punctuation of Whalley's and Gififord's 
texts would indicate. The word commonly denoted the chamber 
utensil (see puns, 38. 31, 96. i) ; hence when applied to individuals, a 
term of abuse (cf. Jordan, N.E.D.). For a contemporary's sharp 
delineation of the typical Smithfield horse-courser, see Overbury's 
Characters, 'An arrant Horse-courser'. 

38. 20 Shee battens with it. With is an unusual preposition to 
employ with baitoi; however, cf. Milton, Lycidas, 29: 'Battening 
our flocks zvith the fresh dews of night.' 

38. 22 after game. 'A second game played in order to reverse 
or improve the issues of the first.' — N.E.D. 

38. 28 Neuer tuske, nor twirle your dibble. CD. defines tusk 
(with particular mention of this passage) : 'To gnash the teeth, as 
a boar', and N.E.D. gives as a conjecture that by dibble was meant 
the moustache. These I regard as the best explanations. Gifford, 
however, suggests that dibble may mean the 'spade beard' common 
at this tirne, and Cunningham identifies tusks with mustachios. For 
an excellent description and cuts of the styles of wearing the beard, 
see 'The Ballad of the Beard', Percy Soc. Early Eng. Ballads, 
27. 121. 

38. 32 Lyon-chap. Lion-chop or -jaw. 

39. 3 foundring thee i'the bodie. Foundring has the not unusual 
meaning of destroying or causing to collapse utterly. Of its special 
meaning as applied to horses (and incidentally to Ursula) we may 
gain further information from Markham's Maister-Peece: 'Evill and 
grosse humours . . . doe at length oppresse and almost con- 
found the whole body, absolutely taking away from him all his 
strength, insomuch that he can neither goe nor bow his joynts, nor 
being laid, is able to rise againe . . . [often] it proceedeth from 
suffering the horse to drinke too much in his travaile being very hot, 
whereby the grease being suddenly cooled, it doth clap about, and 
suffocate the inward parts.' 

39. 7 and thy grasse scour'd. Gifford says that Knockem's 
conversation 'is made up of scraps from the stable, which call for 
no explanation.' Cunningham does not dismiss the difficulties so 
boldly, but acknowledges he can make no sense out of this particular 
phrase except by omitting thy, or by changing it to 'thy guts grass- 
scoured.' No such emendation, however, is needed ; grasse is for 
'grasso', a horse-leech's term, thus defined by Markham : 'Which is 
any manner of fat, is hot and moyst, and doth ripen and soften.' 
'Scourings', further to quote Markham, 'are those wholesome, 
naturall and gentle purging medicines, which stirring up no great 



174 Bartholomew Fair 

Fluxe of humours, doe onely keepe the body cleane from such evills 
as would arise and grow.' 

39. 8 wench. 'Not always in a bad sense, as at present, but 
used as a general familiar expression, in any variation of tone 
between tenderness and contempt.' — Schmidt. 

39. 15 token. During the reign of Elizabeth private tokens were 
issued of lead, tin, latten, and leather. In James I's reign copper 
tokens were used, but the monopoly of striking them was conferred 
upon individuals. After the Civil War the monopoly lapsed, and 
the result was an issue of copper tokens by the principal tradesmen. 
In 1672 an authorized copper coinage of farthings and half pennies 
was undertaken and the tokens fell into disuse. — Abridged from 
Poole, 128-129. 

39. 16 Ha' you any comes 'i your feete, and toes? As Gifford 
observes, Shirley mentions this old street cry in the Constant Maid, 

2. 2. 

39. 17 Mouse-trap, or a Tormentor for a Flea. Cf. Taylor's 
Travels of Twelve-pence: 

I could name more, if so my Muse did please, 
Of Mowse Traps, and tormentors to kill Fleas. 

Heywood, Rape of Lucrece, Appendix : 'Buy a very fine Mouse-trap 
or a tormentor for your Fleaes.' A flea-trap is also mentioned in 
Beaumont and Fletcher's Bondtica, 2. 3. 

39. 22 the Ferret and the Coney. These were rogues' terms in 
common use. Dekker's Lanthorne and Candle Light, 1609 (Works, 

3. 228 ff.), contains a chapter on 'Ferreting. The Manner of vndoo- 
ing Gentlemen by taking vp of commodities', in which occurs the 
following: 'lliis Ferret-Hunting hath his Seasons as other games 
haue, and is onely followed at such a time of yeare, when the Gentry 
of our kingdome by riots, hauing chased them-selues out of the faire 
reuenewes and large possession left to them by their ancestors, are 
forced to hide their heads like Conies, in little Caues and in vnfre- 
quented places : or else being almost windle^, by running after 
sensual! pleasures to feircely, they are glad (for keeping them-selues 
in breath so long as they can) to fal to Ferret-hunting, y* is to 
say, to take vp commodities. . . . The Cittizen that sells them 
[the commodities] is the Ferret.' The Coney was the dupe, the 
gull, the victim of the cony-catcher. 

'Coney was often spelt "cunny", being pronounced so as to rhyme 
with "money." The vowel did not acquire the present 6 until the 
nineteenth century.' — N.E.D. 

39. 25 A dozen of diuine points, etc. Points were laces with 
tags at the end, serving for buttons to hold the clothes together. 
Cf. I Hen. IV, 2. 4. 238: 

Fal. Their points being broken, — 
Poins. Down fell their hose. 



Notes 175 

In regard to garters, cf. Planche, i. 199: 'They were, in the time 
of James I, small sashes of silk, tied in a large bow, and the ends 
of point lace.' In regard to the ballad itself, cf. an old song, which 
Cunningham refers to, reprinted by the Percy Society, Satirical 
Songs and Poems on Costume, 'A dossen of Points, sent by a 
Gentlewoman to her Lover for a Newe Yeares Gifte.' The con- 
clusion indicates its character : 

With theise twelve vertuous points, 

Se thou do tye thee round. 
And lyke and love this simple gifte. 

Till better may be found. 
Yet one point thou dost lacke, 

To tye thy hose before: 
Love me as I love the, and shall. 

From hence for evermore. 

Fairholt (the editor) comments on this ballad: '[It] appears to be 
a production of the early part of Elizabeth's reign. I believe it to 
be the very ballad alluded to by Ben Jonson, in his comedy of 
Bartholomew Fair.' 

40. 14 The dress of the lawyer's clerk, as well as of the serving 
man, afforded a disguise not uncommon, for the thief frequenting 
fairs, St. Paul's, etc. 

40. 24 flye the purse to a marke. 'To fly at mark. Generally 
said of a Goshawk when, having "put in" a covey of partridges, 
she takes stand, marking the spot where they disappeared from view 
until the falconer arrives to put them out to her.' — Harting. The 
same epression is used in the Induction of Uie Magnetic Lady: 
'Fly everj^hing you see to the mark and censure it freely.' Dekker 
in his Lanthorne and Candle-Light tells how terms of hunting and 
falconry were similarly used by rogues in their cozenage. 

40. 27 your friendship (Masters) is not now to beginne. 
That is, they had worked together before, and the directions of 
procedure were quite unnecessary. 

40. 34 and good whimsies. Nearly equivalent to 'humors', or 
'vapors'. Cf. Staple of News, 4. i : 

Now I think of it, 
A noble whimsy's come into my brain: 
I'll build a college. 

41. 4 Very passionate, Mistresse, etc. Cunningham aptly refers 
to Lamb's Dissertation upon Roast Pig: 'Now he is just done. To 
see the extreme sensibility of that tender age, he hath wept out 
his pretty eyes — radiant jellies — shooting stars — '. 

41. 5 melancholy. Cf. Ev. Man In, i. 3, where Knowell charges 
Stephen with being melancholy, and where Stephen later expresses 



176 Bartholomew Fair 

this resolve : 'Why, I do think of it ; and I will be more proud, 
and melancholy, and gentleman-like than I have been, He ensure 
you.' Wheatley notes : 'One of the fantastic humours of the 
gallants of this day was the assumption of a melancholy and 
abstracted air . . . This appearance of abstraction was thought 
to be a sign of gentility, and in one of the spurious Shakespearean 
plays, Life and Death of Lord Cromwell, Act III, sc. 2, almost the 
same words are used as are put into Stephen's mouth in 1. 132 — "My 
nobility is wonderful melancholy: Is it not mosj gentlemanlike 
to be melancholy?" ' 

41, 12 strange woman. 'The scripture phrase for an immodest 
woman, a prostitute. Indeed this acceptation of the word is familiar 
to many languages. It is found in the Greek; and we have in 
Terence — pro uxore habere hanc perigrinam: upon which Donatus 
remarks, hoc nomine etiani meretrices nominabantur.' — G. 

41. 13 From Ovid, Metamorphoses, 15. 871. 

41. 16 and store! And plenty. 

41. 21 Goshawke. Employed in falconry, being flown at pheas- 
ant, mallard, wild goose, hare, and rabbit; often very fierce. Cf. 
Dekker, 2 Honest Whore, 3. 3 : 'We hear of two or three new 
wenches are come up with a carrier, and your old goshazvk here is 
flying at them.' 

42. 5 comfortable bread. 'Spiced gingerbread'. — G. 

42. 6 Ceres selling her daughters picture. Proserpine's. 

42. 16 ff. Apparently Knockem had been Edgworth's teacher in 
the art of cutting a purse, and so was free to demand a large part 
of his gains. Greene {Works, 10. no ff.) gives a vivid picture of 
an 'old Coole' (cut-purse) and his 'young toward schoUer' at 
work. 

42. 24 roar'd as loud as Neptune. As loud as the sea. There 
is a play here on the word roar'd, which is used in the previous line 
in the sense of talking in a swaggering, bully-like manner. 

42. 25 as likely an inconuenience. As pleasing an absurdity. 

42. 31-32 A similar consciousness of superior rank or character 
on the part of Winwife and Quarlous, is several times manifested. 
In 1. 8 Knockem sees this and charges Winwife with being proud. 
Cf. 16. 33, 42. 8, loi. 9. 

43. I my Punque, cold, Sir. Not fevered by passion, that is, 
considering her profession, not at all. 

43. 4 the bottle is almost off. Almost gone, or drunk. Cf. 
Drinke it off (100. 23). 

43. 19-20 For the irregularity in the conditional sentence; cf. 
Hamlet, 2. 2. 534-540: 

But if the gods themselves did see her then . . . 
The instant burst of clamour that she made, . . . 
Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven. 



Notes 177 

As Abbott remarks : 'The consequent does not always answer to 
the antecedent in mood or tense. Frequently the irregularity can 
be readily explained by a change of thought.' 

43. 25 would my Booth ha' broake. Become bankrupt, a play 
upon credit in the preceding line. 

43. 30 and be curst a while. Gifford compares this with 'be 
naught awhile' {As Y. Like It, i. i. 39), equivalent to 'the mischief 
on you', and quotes several passages to show that this was a 
proverbial curse. 

43. 31 Body o'the Fayre. A curious pseudo-oath, formed in 
imitation of 'Body of Christ', which was common in its many 
corruptions ; cf. 46. 35. 

44. 4 'Gear or geer used to be one of the hardest-worked words 
in the English language. It meant matter or material of any and 
every sort and kind. Smithfield (more particularly Cow Lane) was 
the recognized place for coachmakers, just as Long Acre now is, 
with respect to the use to which Ursula's "geer" was to be turned.' 
— Cun. [Curious English, this of Cunningham's ! Who will explain 
the subtlety of his last clause?] Coleridge {Literary Remains, 
2. 283) observes: 'Good! but yet it falls short of the speech of a 
Mr. Johnes, M.P., in the Common Council, on the invasion intended 
by Buonaparte : "Houses plundered — then burnt ; — sons conscribed 
— wives and daughters ravished, &c., &c. — But as for you, you 
luxurious Aldermen ! with your fat will he grease the wheels of his 
triumphal chariot !" ' 

44. 12 fennel. Fennel, as also mint and parsley, was commonly 
eaten with fish (see Our Eng. Home, 70). 

44. 14 Is shee your quagmire. Owners of large stables com- 
monly have a bog or miry spot where the horses may stand when 
they are lame, etc. 

44. 25 Allusions to people of the Low Countries in the Eliza- 
bethan dramatists were nearly always of a humorous turn; the 
epithets, 'butter-box', 'butter-bag', 'butter-mouth', were contemp- 
tuously given to the Dutchmen because of the great quantity of 
butter eaten by them (cf. 'butter-box', Grose's Lexicon Bala- 
tronicum) . 

44. 31 leane playhouse poultry. An allusion to the birds 
employed in the cockfights popular at this time. Boulton's Amuse- 
ments of Old London, i. 171-206, well describes this sport. 

44. 37 sweating Sicknesse. So called from the 'deadely burn- 
yng sweate', the first symptoms of the fatal plague that devastated 
England several times. Stow thus describes its ravages in London 
and Northern England in 1551 : 'Certaine it is that in London in 
few daies 960. gaue vp the ghost . . . people beeing in best 



178 Bartholomew Fair 

health, were sodainely taken, and dead in fower and twentie houres, 
and twelue, or lesse, for lacke of skill in guiding them in their 
sweat.' — Annates, 1023. 

45. 1-2 An allusion to the French pox. Equivalent to the com- 
mon curse 'pox on you' or 'plague take you'. 

Though they be o'scarlet refers to breech and not to patch. 
'Breeches' (plural) was the form of the word most commonly used, 
and in the present instance the pronoun agrees with the plural 
significance of its antecedent, and not with its singular form, in the 
speech of the uncultured Ursula. 

45. 5 Cuckingstoole. 'An instrument of punishment formerly 
in use for scolds, disorderly women, fraudulent tradespeople, etc., 
consisting of a chair (sometimes in the form of a close-stool), in 
which the offender was fastened and exposed to the jeers of the 
bystanders, or conveyed to a pond or river and ducked.' — N.E.D. 
Cf. Brand, 3. 102-108. The etymologies suggested by Gifford (from 
'cuckquean') and by Blount, quoted by Brand (from 'ducking-stool', 
or perhaps 'choking-stool'), are not supported by N.E.D. It seems 
to be made up of 'cuck', to avoid excrement, and 'stool'. 

45. 7 A reference to the pond within the limits of the Fair. Of 
this Stow says : 'Horsepoole, in West Smithfield, was some time 
a great water; and because the inhabitants in that part of the city 
did there water their horses, the same was in old records called 
Horsepoole; it is now [1598] much decayed, the springs being 
stopped up, and the land water falling into the small bottom, 
remaining inclosed, with brick, is called Smithfield pond.' — Survey 
of London, 7. 

45. 9 hedge bird. 'A person born, brought up, or accustomed 
to loiter under a hedge ; a vagrant ; a sturdy vagabond ; a footpad.' 
—N.E.D. 

45. 14 Mrs. Commodity. Another reference to the method of 
raising money by 'commodities' ; cf. 10. 21 and note. 

45. 19 pil'd, and double pil'd. Peeled, stripped of hair, bald 
(from the French pox) ; cf. bald thrasher, 45. 25; Meas. for Meas. 
I. 2. 35 ; also see piled in Schmidt. 

45. 31 I'le set you gone. I'll cause you to be gone. 

46. 17 I ha' lost a limb in the seruice. Language of the army 
or navy. Ursula undoubtedly had associated with rough characters 
of each. The diction of the common people had many, even techni- 
cal terms of the sea, as is to be seen in Tempest, T. Night, and other 
plays. Cf. 57. 24 and note. 

46. 27 race-Bawd. An unusual combination, apparently sug- 
gested by race-horse ; ironical as applied to the fat Ursula. 

46. 30 Sometimes the cutpurses started street fights or feigned 
them among themselves in order to secure their 'purchases' in the 



Notes 179 

confusion. Greene in 'A Dispvtation between a Hee Conny-catcher 
and a Shee Conny-catcher' {Works, 10. 215), describes how a 
farmer was thus relieved of a purse containing £40; in 10. 180, he 
describes a similar trick by which a countryman coming to the rescue 
of a rogue, lost a costly gold chain and purse, stolen by the man 
he sought to help. 

46. 32 Edgworth was an accurate observer and had a shrewd 
wit; this was true of most of the cutpurses. The gallants were 
spendthrifts who passed much of their time devising how to raise 
money. Quarlous and Winwife, though not penniless, felt the need 
of seeking wealthy matches. 

47. I Mallanders. 'A kind of dry scab, growing in the form 
of lines or strokes over thwart the very bought or inward bent of 
the knee, and hath hard hairs with stubborne rootes, like swines 
bristles, which corrupted and cankereth the flesh.' — Markham, 
Maister-Peece. 

scratches. 'Long, scabby & dry chappes, or rifts, growing right 
up and downe, and overthwart on the hinder leggs . . . the 
Schartches are above the fet-lock.' — Ibid. 

crowne scabbe. 'A stinking and filthy scabbe, breeding round 
about the cornets of the hoofe, and is a cankerous and paineful 
sorrance.' — Ibid. 

47. 2 quitter bone. 'A hard round swelling upon the Cronet 
of the hoofe, betwixt the heele and the quarter, and groweth most 
commonly on the inside of the foote.' — Ibid. 

47' 3~5 The disease alluded to, French pox or syphilis, was 
extremely common at this time. The Hospitall is of course St. 
Bartholomew's, on the south side of Smithfield and overlooking the 
Fair. Traill (3. 564) quotes a statement of William Clowes, a 
surgeon at the Hospital, 1579, which is important in this connection,; 
'It hapneth in the house of Saint Bartholomew very seldome but 
that among every twentye diseased persons that are taken in, fifteene 
of them have the pocks.' 

47. 7 Windgall. 'The Wind-gal is a little blebbe or bladderful 
of corrupt jelly, & like the white of an egge, growing on each side 
of the Master sinew of the leg, hard above the pastorne.' — Markham. 
Among several remedies suggested by the same author, the following 
is very similar to Knockem's : 'Take an ounce of white waxe, an 
ounce of Rozen, two ounces of raw hony, three ounces of Swines 
grease . . . rubbe them into the Wind-gall, bj^ holding a hot 
barre of iron against the oyntment, and it wil take the Wind-gal 
away.' Jonson possessed an astonishing amount of odd and curious 
knowledge — here it is acquaintance with veterinary science as well 
as with rogues, their tricks, haunts, and language — indeed surprising 
with all his classical and philosophical learning. 



i8o Bartholomezv Fair 

Knockem, as a Smithfield horse-courser, would know all of the 
common diseases of horses. Dekker (Lanthorne and Candle Light, 
chap. lo) tells how those of this profession bought old and diseased 
horses at a low price, and then by a little doctoring concealed their 
ailments, and sold the horses as sound. In the same chapter a 
general characterization of the horse-courser occurs, which well 
applies to Knockem : 'You shall finde euery Horse-courser for the 
most part to bee in quality a coozner, by profession a knaue, by his 
cunning a Varlet, in fayres a Hagling Chapman, in the Citty a 
Cogging dissembler, and in Smith-field a common forsworne 
Villaine.' 

47. 13 In the character of Overdo and in the ridicule to which 
he is subjected throughout the play, the satire is directed against 
the city magistrates as well as the Puritans. Overdo is not a 
Puritan by profession, but in his impracticable scheme for purifying 
the Fair, in his abhorrence of tobacco, and, most of all, in his 
important and affected manner, he showed the characteristics that 
in those days would commonly class him with the Puritans. The 
city magistrates, often for the sake of public decency, placed many 
small restraints on the stage ; and the dramatists in return, as far 
as they dared, satirized the magistrates. Overdo is apprehensive 
lest Edgworth, whom he plans to rescue, will be affected by the 
taint of poetry, after which there will be no hope of him as a 
commonwealth's man. This, of course, is ridicule. Jonson treats 
the same theme, but without even this thin disguise, in Ev. Man In, 
S, where Justice Clement says : 'They [poets] are not born every 
year, as an alderman. There goes more to the making of a good 
poet, than a sheriff. ... I will do more reverence to him, when 
I meet him, than I will to the mayor out of this year.' Cf. 31. 24 ff. 
and note; also Thompson, The Controversy betzveen the Puritans 
and the Stage, 120, 206, 208. 

Overdo's attempted reformation is marked by cant at the very 
beginning. He saw Edgworth for the first time but a few minutes 
before, yet already his few hairs are grown gray in his care of the 
young man. 

tabacco. Paul Hentzner, a German tutor who visited England 
in 1598, describes the smoking at the playhouses and elsewhere : 
'At these spectacles, and everywhere else, the English are constantly 
smoking tobacco. . . . they have pipes . . . made of clay, 
into the farther end of which they put the herb, so dry that it may 
be rubbed into powder ; and putting fire to it, they draw the smoke 
into their mouths, which they puff out again through their nostrils, 
like funnels, along with plenty of phlegm and defluxion from the 
head.' — Hentzner's Itinerarium, cited by Morley, Mem. 137. 



Notes i8i 

47. 21 As Greene says (10. 103), 'Where so euer there is any 
extraordinarie resort of people, there the Nippe and the Foist [the 
cutpurse and the pickpocket] haue fittest oportunity to shewe their 
iugHng agillitie.' Cf. 40. 22, 65. 12 ff. 

47. 25 The Justice quotes from Knockem's 'vapours' (cf. 38. i). 

48. 4 a kinne to the Cokeses. Cf. note on 24. 29. 

48. 12 Alligarta. From the Spanish el or al lagarto, the lizard. 
For the various steps by which it became corrupted to alligator, see 
N.E.D. 

48. 18 say, Numps, is a witch. As already has been observed 
(cf. note on 28. 21), this was a time when England thoroughly 
believed in witchcraft (cf. Traill, 3. 325 fif., 4. 85 flf.). 

48. 26 £f. This sounds very much like King James' Counterblast 
to Tobacco (1604) : 'Surely smoke becomes a kitchen far better 
than a dining chamber, and yet it makes a kitchen also oftentimes 
in the inward parts of men, soiling and infecting them with an 
unctious and oily kind of soot, as hath been found in some great 
Tobacco takers, that after their death were opened.' It would be 
interesting to know how King James felt as he saw the play, and 
heard this serio-comic denouncer of tobacco utter some of his own 
arguments published anonymously ten years before. They could 
hardly escape sharing in the ridicule in which the character who 
utters them becomes involved. 

48. 32 the hole in the nose . . . the third nostrill. Malig- 
nant syphilis, unchecked, not unfrequently attacks the nose, destroy- 
ing the bridge and even eating away the whole organ. From 
Overdo's allusion, it seems that the smokers sometimes gloried in 
such disfigurement, as enabling them to do special tricks in blowing 
out smoke from the nostrils. An accomplishment, considered most 
essential for the Jacobean gallant, was that he should be an artistic 
smoker. There were professors who made it their special business 
to teach the ambitious to blow the smoke out in balls, rings, etc. 
(cf. Thornbury, i. 46, Ev. Man Out, 3. i). 

49. S. D. Hee picketh his purse. 'While we were at this show 
[in Bartholomew Fair] one of our company, Tobias Salander, 
Doctor of Physic, had his pocket picked of his purse, with nine 
crowns (ecus du soleil), which, without doubt, was so cleverly taken 
from him bj' an Englishman who always kept very close to him, 
that the Doctor did not in the least perceive it.' — Hentzner's 
Itincrarium, 1598; cited by Rye, 108. 

49. 8 basket-hilt, and an old Fox in't. A basket-hilt was 
formed of narrow plates of steel, following the shape of the hand. 
Fox was frequently used for sword by contemporary dramatists, as 
N.E.D. conjectures, originally because of 'the figure of a wolf, 
on certain sword-blades, being mistaken for a fox.' 



i82 Bartholomew Fair 

49. 10 As there was always a chance that the cutpurse might 
be suspected and searched, it was very common that he should thus 
relieve himself and be ready for other work. Women were recog- 
nized as especially good accomplices. To quote Greene once more 
(Works, 10. 227) : 'Suppose you are good at the lift, who be more 
cunning then we women in that we are more trusted, for they little 
suspect vs, and we haue as close conueyance as you men : though 
you haue Cloakes, we haue skirts of gownes, handbaskets, the 
crownes of our hattes, our plackardes, and for a need, false bagges 
vnder our smockes, where'en we can conuey more closely then you.' 

49. 13 what speake I. The use of what for 'why' (^ quid) 
was very common. Many examples are to be found in Shakespeare. 
Cf. 23. 10 and note. 

49. 24 Streights, or the Bermuda's. 'Cant-names then given 
to the places frequented by bullies, knights of the post, and fencing 
masters.' — W. 'These Streights consisted of a nest of obscure courts, 
allejrs, and avenues, running between the bottom of St. Martin's 
Lane, Half-moon, and Chandos-street. In Justice Overdo's time, 
they were the receptacles of fraudulent debtors, thieves and prosti- 
tutes. Their present frequenters, it is to be presumed, are of a 
more reputable description. At a subsequent period, this cluster of 
avenues exchanged the old name of Bermudas for that of Caribbee 
Islands, which the learned professors of the district corrupted, by 
a happy allusion to the arts cultivated there, into Cribbee Islands, 
their present appellation.' — G. Cf. Underwoods, 30: 

But these men ever want : their very trade 

Is borrowing; that but stopt, they do invade 

All as their prize, turn pirates here at land, 

Have their Bermudas, and their Streights i'the Strand. 

49. 25 the quarreling lesson is read. The rapier which had 
commonly displaced the broad sword came from Spain, but the pro- 
fessors who taught its use were chiefly from Italy. Though fencing 
schools were popular, they had a bad name at this time, partly 
because of the fatal use that knaves and tricksters made of the 
skill gained at them. In Alcheni. 3. 2, Kastril seeks the Doctor for 
instruction to 'manage a quarrel upon fit terms'. Cf. As Y. Like It, 
5. 4, where the same is also satirized. 

49. 29 The length and the dangers attending the voyages to the 
New World, as well as the poor means there of cultivating tobacco, 
made its price extremely high. Ursula lets out pipes at three 
pence a pipe full (35. 28), and Traill (3. 572) says it sold 'for 
3 s. an ounce — at least 18 s. of our money.' To gain an idea of 
what these prices meant, one should compare the laborer's weekly 



Notes 183 

wages ; a skilled workman would average scarcely six shillings, and 
an ordinary woman would receive about two shillings, six pence 
(of. Traill, 3. 546). 

50. 9 mouth of a pecke. To Dr. Murray, editor of the New 
English Dictionary, I am indebted for the following note in reply 
to a personal inquiry : 'We know no sense of peck except that of 
the measure of capacity, and the vessel in which it is measured, with 
derived uses such as a "peck of trouble", the proverbial "peck of 
dirt" that everyone must eat before he dies, etc. Our understand- 
ing of the passage is that the bawling fellow was said to have a 
mouth of the capacity of a peck, or which, when open, might be 
compared to a peck's mouth. . . . Possibly the whole clause 
means "seized, affected, or afflicted with a mouth of the capacity 
of a peck", or "with a peck's mouth", this being regarded or 
spoken of as a disease or seizure. I should take it as a purely 
nonce figure of speech, which Waspe threw out in his angry invec- 
tive — The London costermonger is amazingly eloquent in abusive 
language; so is the cab-driver or omnibus-conductor; you might 
hear from them in a day fifty striking figures of speech, which you 
would search for in vain in all your apparatus criticus.' 

50. 20 malt-horse. 'A horse employed in grinding malt by 
working a treadmill or winch ; hence, a slow, heavy horse.' — CD. 
It is used by Shakespeare as an expression of contempt. 

50. 22-23 Elliptic for 'Much good may it do you', etc. 

51. 9 sorrow wi'not keepe it. Check or restrain it. 

51. 19 In the beating of Overdo, Jonson is resorting to an 
expedient for pleasing the people, common in Aristophanes, Plautus, 
and Terence ; with them a beating is always funny. We find the 
same in the pre-Elizabethan drama; cf. Com. of Errors, 2. 2. 23, 
4. 4. 18, etc. ; Woodbridge, The Drama, 56. 

51. 24 The Massacre of St. Bartholomew's Day occurred August 
24, 1572, when in Paris alone from 2,000 to 10,000 people perished. 

51. 26 Patrice. The orator and priest of strolling bands of 
beggars and gipsies, as the Patrico himself explains in The Gipsies 
Metamorphosed: 

Stay . . . 
For me, that am bringer 
Of bounds to the border. 
The rule and recorder. 
And mouth of your order, 
As priest of the game, 
And prelate of the same. 



184 Bartholomew Fair 



ACT III. 

52. I ff. Nowhere is Whit's nationality mentioned, but on com- 
paring his brogue with that found in The Irish Masque a close 
similarity is evident; we can safely assert that Whit is Irish. 
There are further two characters in this act who speak in dialect — 
the Northern Clothier, and Puppy, a Western man. Elsewhere, as 
well, Jonson has attempted to imitate the speech of certain country- 
men and foreigners : e. g. Yorkshire, in the Sad Shepherd; Welsh- 
English, in the Honor of Wales; Dutch-English, in the Masque of 
Augurs. These are crude efforts at writing in dialect and brogue, 
but they are not inferior to Shakespeare's. The aim, apparently, 
was not accurately to reproduce the speech of an Irishman or 
Welshman, but rather to emphasize the fact that the speakers were 
foreigners from Ireland or Wales. Their brogue and manners, as 
regards local color, might well be compared with the non-Italian 
atmosphere of most of the scenes laid in Rome, Venice, etc. 

Whit's brogue is reducible to a small number of very simple rules. 
The vowels are natural, with a few exceptions: Creesh (Christ), 
meaneteeme (meantime), neet cap (night-cap). Sh, the most com- 
mon consonantal change, is for s, also for soft c, soft g and /; 
d, and occasionally t, is for th; p and v are for zv. Cf. Macmorris' 
speech in Hen. V , 3, also Bryan's in Dekker's 2 Honest Whore. Cf. 
also Professor Beers' 'Dialect on the Old Stage' in his Points at 
Issue, N. Y., 1904. Regarding Whit he remarks : T was unable 
to decide whether he is an Irishman, a Jew, or an Amarugian. He 
says shentlemens like a modern old-clothes man, vil and vould like 
a Dickens cockney, or a German trying to pronounce w; in other 
respects he talks like Shakespeare's and Jonson's Irishmen.' (Pro- 
fessor Beers has told me since, however, that he has come to the 
conclusion that Whit was undoubtedly intended for an Irishman; 
Elizabethan dramatists did not have a special speech for Jews.) 
Strict observance of the peculiarities of dialect is not common on 
our stage to-day, and could hardly be expected in Jonson's time. 
To quote further from the essay already cited : 'The fact doubtless 
is that the old dramatists' acquaintance with the dialect was super- 
ficial. They noted a few of its more obvious peculiarities and left 
the rest to the actor. Indeed, the notation of vowel sounds needs a 
phonetic alphabet or palaeotype, an instrument of precision far 
beyond the reach of popular writers, especially in the rudimentary 
stage of dialect writing in the seventeenth century'. 

52. 5 brabblesh. Brabbles or brawls. 

Is Whit a spy or intelligencer, paid for the number of people 
whose arrest he can effect? 



Notes 185 

52. 9 you told mee a pudding. Tliis is a play on Haggise's 
name, and shows from what it was probably derived. A haggis is a 
kind of pudding, thus described by N.E.D.: 'A dish consisting of 
the heart, lungs, and liver of a sheep, calf, etc. . . . minced 
with suet and oatmeal, seasoned with salt, pepper, onions, etc., and 
boiled like a large sausage in the mouth of the animal. ... a 
popular English dish in English cookery down to the beginning of 
the eighteenth century.' If we might apply as well the figurative 
meaning, 'An indolent, do-nothing fellow', the sense in which Carlyle 
used the word in 1822, according to N.E.D., its appropriateness as 
a Jacobean watchman's name would be perfect ; 1. 12 leads us to 
think that the word may have had also this significance in Jonson's 
time. 

52. 12 the monsters. Since early in Queen Elizabeth's reign, 
when explorers kept bringing tales of strange people and animals 
from America, Africa and Asia, the English people had showed a 
remarkable passion for monsters. Shakespeare satirizes this in the 
Tempest, 2. 2, where Trinculo says of Caliban : 

A strange fish ! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this 
fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there 
would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when 
they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to 
see a dead Indian. 

Among the monsters at the Fair, elsewhere mentioned in our play, 
were the great hog (74. 22), the eagle, the black wolf, the bull 
with the five legs, the dogs that danced the morris, and the hare 
that played on the tabor (118. 4-7). Cf. Ev. Man Out, 5. 4: 
'I would have you do this now; flay me your dog presently (but 
in any case keep the head), and stuff his skin well with straw, as 
you see these dead monsters at Bartholomew fair.' Alchem. 5. i : 

Love. What should my knave advance. 
To draw this company? he hung out no banners 
Of a strange calf with five legs to be seen, 
Or a huge lobster with six claws. 

Morley in his Memoirs of Bartholomew Fair devotes an entire 
chapter to 'monsters'. 

52. 20 Haggise in his pun comes near to suggesting how the 
name, zvatch, happened to be given to the timepiece ; it is from 
'watch, hour of the night, period of time occupied by soldiers, etc. 
on duty' (Johnson's Univ. Cyc). Thornbury (i. 51) says that 
watches came to England first from Germany in 1584. They were 
still uncommon in Jonson's time. The possession and ostentatious 
wearing of one is part of the grandeur that Malvolio anticipates 
as he aspires to Olivia's hand (T. Night, 2. 5. 66). 



1 86 Bartholomew Fair 

52. 29 lack dat shtrikes him. 'A figure made in old public 
clocks to strike the bell on the outside ; of the same kind as those 
formerly at St. Dunstan's church in Fleet-street.' — Nares' Gloss. 
under 'Jack of the Clock'. Cf. Richard III, 4. 2. 113-118. 

53. 8 wrought neet cap. Planche tells of the richly embroidered 
nightcaps of silk or velvet, of this time, and says they were worn 
during the day by elderly men and invalids. Cf. 1. 14 ; also, Dekker's 
I Honest Whore, 3. i, where Candido, who is about to go out, says : 

Fetch me a night-cap: for I'll gird it close, 
As if my health were queasy. 

54. ID As usual, Quarlous is the bolder and more decided of the 
two. His get you gone, Rascall, is much more virile than Winwife's 
Ther's tzvelpence, pray thee wilt thou be gone. 

54. 32 Babies, male or female. See note on 'Babies,' Prologue. 

54. 34 Smithfield, or the field of Smiths. This is to be con- 
sidered only as evidence of Busy's inspired ignorance. For the origin 
of the name. Smith-field, cf. Stow's Survey, where Fitzstephen's 
Descriptio nobilissimae civitatis Londoniae (12th cent.) is cited: 
'TTiere is, without one of the gates, immediately in the suburb, a 
certain smooth field in name and in reality. There every Friday, 
unless it be one of the more solemn festivals, is a noted show of 
well-bred horses exposed for sale.' The name 'smooth field' was 
particularly fitting because of the contrast to the rough fens adjoining. 

Groue of Hobbihorses. Allusion to the groves, closely connected 
with idol-worship, many times denounced and inveighed against in 
the Old Testament. 

55- 5 Cf. Odyssey, 12. 166 flf. Busy's allusion is not entirely cor- 
rect, but the inexactness is not surprising in view of his contempt for 
the learning of antiquity. 

55. ID peele. Peel : 'A kind of wooden shovel with a broad 
blade and long handle, used by bakers to put bread into or take it 
out of the oven.' — CD. 

55. 18 This manner of decoration was practiced also in the homes. 
Lemnius, a Dutch physician who visited England in 1560, remarks: 
'The better to qualefie and mitigate this heate [in 'soultery hoate 
weather', or 'dogge-dayes'], it shalbe very good to sprinckle on the 
pavements and coole the floores of our houses or chambers with 
springing water, and then to strew them over with sedge, and to 
trimme up our parlours with green boughes, fresh herbes or vine 
leaves ; which thing although in the Low Country it be usually 
frequented, yet no nation more decently, more trimmely, nor more 
sightly than they doe in Englande.' — Rye, 80. 



Notes 187 

55. 22 a Sringhalt, the Maryhinchco. 'The string-halt, of some 
cald the Mary-hinchco, is a suddaine twitching up of the Horses 
hinder legges, as if he did tread upon needles, and were not able 
to endure his feete upon the ground.' — Markham. 

55. 25 de cleane side o'de table-clot. A strong inducement at a 
public eating-house, when forks were not yet common, and table- 
cloths were used to wipe greasy fingers and faces (of. Our Eng. 
Home, 37-47)- 

55. 26 phatersh of Dame Annesh Cleare. Somewhat north from 
Holywell is one other well curved square with stone, and is called 
Dame Annis the clear: — Stow's Survey, 7. 

55. 27 The sale, century after century, of certain sorts of cooked 
meat seems to have had its origin in the fact that when the Fair was 
established, as there was but one public eating-house in London, it 
was necessary to make some provision for strangers. 

55. 30 fire o' luniper and Rosemary branches. N.E.D. says 
that juniper wood was often burned to purify the air. Rosemary 
having a similar fragrance, would likely be thought to possess that 
power as well. Knockem wishes to assure Busy and his party that 
the pigs had been fastidiously cooked. For an incident showing how 
the pig-booths might be most disgusting, see Morley's Mem. 346. 

56. 3 as in Lubberland. With especial reference to this passage, 
Nares remarks that there was an old proverbial saying about 'Lubber- 
land, where the pigs run about ready roasted and cry "Come eat 
me" ' ; and further that this land was 'properly called Lubberland 
because lubbers only would believe in its wonders.' 

56. 8-12 'This passage alludes to a similar place in the Plutus of 
Aristophanes, where the sychophant scents the good dinner preparing 
within : 

'Ei'Soj' 5' icrrlv (3 /xiapuTdTu 

TToXi) xPVf^^ Tefj,aQv Kal Kpewv CoirTy^jxivuyv. 

m U &D vv vv vv &5. [11. 893-895] 

"Therefore be bold, huh, huh, huh, follow the scent." Lepide Aris- 
tophanes in pluto inducit sycophantam olfacientem sacrificiorum 
nidorem, qui totum senarium naribus absolvit : says Vossius on this 
passage.' — Upton. 

56. 16 Come, Win, as good winny here. Whalley says on the 
authority of Lye, the editor of Junius' Etymological Dictionary, that 
'Winny is the same as the old word wonne' (OE. wunian, dwell, 
remain). 

56. 25-26 Cf. note on the Banbury Puritans, 14. 24; 0' the sincere 
stud is more of Knockem's horsy talk, and means 'of the unmixed 
breed.' 



1 88 Bartholomew Fair 

56. 27 Apparently Whit's charge was to induce people to drink 
heavily (cf. 57. 20-22). As he was by profession a bawd, he would 
also be on the alert for victims. 

57. I what ail they. This is a strange construction but by no 
means peculiar to our author. N.E.D. says that this intransitive use 
of ail came from 'mistaking the personal object which in early times 
usually preceded the impersonal verb, for the subject.' It thus 
meant: 'To have something the matter with one.' Cf. All's Well, 
2. 4. 6 : 

If she be very well, what does she ail, 
That she's not very well? 

57. 5 The Puritans were always out of style; they were satirized 
for having 'Religion in their garments, and their hair cut shorter 
than their eyebrows !' {Ev. Man Out, Induction). Instead of a small 
printed ruffe, fashionable dress at this time required one so wide 
that it often had to be supported by wires, such as Stubbes denounced 
in the following (Anat. of Abuses, 51) : 'They haue great and 
monsterous ruflfes, made either of Cambrick, holland, lawn, or els 
of some other the finest cloth that can be got for money, whereof 
some be a quarter of a yard deep, yea, some more, very few lesse.' 

57. 7-13 This is addressed to Ursula and Mooncalf. The supply- 
ing of 'they are' before good guests makes the meaning plain. 

57. 8 set a couple o* pigs o'the board. The original order was 
for one pig (56. 25, 28). Knockem, by his eloquence in persuading 
Ursula of the generous appetites of Busy's flock gains added con- 
fidence, himself. 

57. II a stone-puritane, with a sorrell head. More horse-talk 
referring to Busy. Stone-puritane is in imitation of 'stone-horse', 
an obsolete or provincial term for stallion. 

57. 21 and the sisters drinke. Gififord thinks that a word or 
two was lost between and and the, perhaps 'see that.' It seems 
better to consider the passage obscure because of the characteristic 
brevity of the author, and the bad punctuation of the printer. The 
only emendation needed is the omission of the comma after brethren, 
and the insertion of a semicolon after sisters. 

57. 24 to lay aboard. A nautical term meaning 'To place one's 
own ship along side of for the purpose of fighting.' — N.E.D. Cf. 
2 Hen. VI, 4. I. 25 : 'I lost mine eyes in laying the prize aboard.' 
The many sea terms to be found in Shakespeare and Jonson (cf. 
46. 17, 98. 23) show how the people of London were influenced by 
the nation's leading industry; they acquired not a little of the 
language of the sailors who were always to be seen in the poorer 
taverns and about the streets. 



Notes 189 

57. 26-27 This is a decided reflection upon the character of the 
Fair; cf. 27. 4 and note. 

57. 29 o'the widdowes Hundred. The Hundred was the early 
subdivision of a county which had its own court. It is here used 
figurativelj', = 'class'. 

58. 17 peepe out o'the taile of. Result from. 

58. 24 i' their dish, i'faith, at night for fruit. With the sweet- 
meats, the last course. 

58. 25 had thought ... to haue reuealed. Cf. 18. 2>7 and 
note. 

58. 28 Much of the humor of the Justice's character consists in 
the tremendous importance he arrogates to himself and to his office. 

59. 5 scabb'd sheep. Troubled with the mange. The shepherd 
carried tar to anoint the sores. 

59. 7 The aldermen's cloaks were of scarlet, worn on state occa- 
sions as a badge of office. Tliey would be seen on Bartholomew 
Day at the Fair as the mob wrestled before the Lord Mayor. 

59. ID Vt paruis componere magna solebam. From Virgil, 
Eel. I. 23. Vt is substituted for sic. 

59. 22 intend that. Fix the mind on that. Cf. L. intendere 
oculos, animum, curas, etc. 

60. 15 a paire o'smithes to wake you i'the morning. Was this 
a device to answer the purpose of the modern alarm clock? Perhaps 
it was similar to the lack dat shtrikes him (cf. 52. 29 and note). 

60. 31-32 An allusion to the North American Indians and the 
conscienceless trades that the whites made with them. 

61. 15 you are fine. At least in this play, fine is a much over- 
worked word (cf. 12. 29; 22. 7, 8; 62. 4; 69. 2; 89. 17; 116. 16; 
118. 8). 

61. 32 How melancholi' Mistresse Grace is yonder. Cf. note 
on melancholy, 41. 5. 

61. 33 let's goe enter our selues in Grace, with her. A play 
on her name, in Grace, being an obsolete phrase, equivalent to in 
favor. 

62. 5 More Bartholomew babies. 

62. 10 Bobchin. Found also in 78. 12, but an unusual word, 
perhaps coined by our author. It is made up of Bob, a distortion of 
'hobby' -|- chin =: 'kin,' the diminutive. Hence its applicability to the 
hobby-horse man in 78. 12, and here to Cokes. 

62. 12 aboue board. 'In open sight . . . A figurative expres- 
sion, borrowed from gamesters, who, when they put their hands 
under the table, are changing their cards.' — Johnson's Diet. 

62. 14-16 fiddles. Used interchangeably with violins. A delicate 
young noise is equivalent to. An exquisitely fine company of young 
fiddlers. 



19° Bartholomew Fair 

62. 17 When speaking of masques at weddings Jonson was on 
very familiar ground. At this time he had produced at least eighteen 
masques, barriers, and entertainments, some of them for the King. 

63. 14 Coriat. Thomas Coryate (iS77?-i6i7) studied at Oxford 
but left without taking a degree, and then led an aimless life for 
some years ; on the accession of James I, he became a hanger-on 
of the court, finding a livelihood as a privileged buffoon. He had 
an extraordinary memory, and in wit was a match for any of the 
courtiers. In 1608 he went to Venice and came back through Zurich, 
Basle and Strasburg, traveling, according to his own reckoning, 
197s miles ; much of which distance he covered on foot. He then 
set to work to write an account of his travels, and in the difficulty 
of finding a publisher besought friends and even the merest acquaint- 
ances for commendatory verses, of which he secured an immense 
number; these Jonson undertook to edit for him. The whole 
appeared under the name of Coryats Crudities (D.N.B.). 

Cokeley. 'The master of a motion or puppet-show.' — W. Cf. 
Epigram 129 : 'Thou dost out-zany Cokely, Pod ; nay, Gue : and 
thine own Coryat too.' Also Devil is an Ass, i. i : 

Where canst thou carry him, except to taverns, 
To mount upon a joint-stool, with a Jew's trump, 
To put down Cokely. 

63. 19 baited the fellow i'the beare's skin. Fleay (Eng. Drama, 
I- 378) considers this as satirical of Inigo Jones, and refers to the 
masque. Love Restored: (Robin Goodfellow telling of his difficulty 
to gain admission) 'I would not imitate so catholic a coxcomb as 
Coryat, and make a case of asses. Therefore I took another course. 
I watched what kind of persons the door most opened to, and one 
of their shapes I would belie to get in with. First I came with 
authority, and said I was an engineer, and belonged to the motions. 
They asked me if I were the fighting bear of last year, and laughed 
me out of that' The present passage seems to refer to some 
burlesque bear-baiting, perhaps of a puppet-show. No dog euer came 
neer him since — either because of the vigor of Leatherhead's whip- 
ping in urging the dogs on to attack the mock bear, or on account 
of the ferocity of the bear which he had devised. 

63. 30 scarfe. 'Scarfs were much worn by knights and military 
officers in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. . . . Before 
the establishment of uniforms the scarf was also a sign of company.' 
— Planche. Cf. Much Ado, 2. i. 198: 'What fashion will you wear 
the garland of? . . . under your arm like a lieutenant's scarf?' 

64. I it stands me in. It has cost me. 

64. 10 forty shillings? (twenty pound scotsh). For several 
centuries the coinage of Scotland had been debased. On the acces- 



Notes 191 

sion of James, the Scotch penny was worth not more than one 
twelfth of the English. At the time of our play, a decade later, 
its comparative value seems to have risen to one tenth. James, being 
the monarch of two kingdoms, had to maintain a double currency 
(cf. Poole, 131-132). 

64. 13 All my wedding gloues, Ginger-bread. Trash's 'Ginger- 
bread progeny' were baked, some in the mold of a hand, and some in 
that of a brooch. Brand says : 'The giving of gloves at marriages 
is a custom of remote antiquity. The following is an extract from 
a letter to Mr. Winwood from Sir Dudley Carleton, dated London, 
January, 1604, concerning the manner of celebrating the marriage 
between Sir. Philip Herbert and the Lady Susan : "No ceremony 
was omitted of bridecakes, points, garters and gloves." ' In Epicoene, 
3. 2, Lady Haughty remarks : 'We see no ensigns of a wedding 
here ; no character of a bride-ale : where be our scarves and our 
gloves?' Cf. Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series, Feb. 10, 
1614: 'Mrs. Drummond's marriage cost the Queen 3,000 1. Sam. 
Danyell wrote a pastoral, solemn and dull. The Lord Mayor and 
Aldermen were invited the day after, had rich gloves, and gave the 
bride a cup with 200 Jacobuses.' Beck in his Gloves, their Annals 
and Associations (London, 1883), 235-238, speaking of the great 
importance attached to gloves at weddings and legal betrothals, says 
that they were given not only to all present, but also were sent 
to those who had any reason to be considered friends or acquaint- 
ances. 

64. 16 I'le ha' this poesie put to 'hem. 'It was formerly the 
custom to engrave mottoes or posies upon wedding, betrothal and 
other rings, and books of these mottoes were published. One of 
these, Love's Garland, appeared in 1624, and again in 1674. In the 
latter year was also published Cupid's Posies for Bracelets, Hand- 
kerchers, and Rings, with Scarf es, Gloves, and other things: — 

Written by Cupid on a day 

When Venus gave me leave to play. 

The lover sheweth his intent 

By gifts that are with posies sent.' 

Wheatley, Every Man In, 159. 

65. 12 There is a sketch by Inigo Jones, entitled the 'Ballet- 
Singer,' reproduced in Cunningham's Inigo Jones. 

65. 18 lime bush. A bush smeared with bird-lime, 'a viscous 
substance prepared from the inner bark of the holly, Ilex Aquifolium, 
used for entangling small birds in order to capture them.' — CD. 

65. 27 the Messe. 'A set of four ; any group of four persons 
or things : originally as a convenient subdivision of a numerous 
company at dinner, a practice still maintained in the London inns 



192 



Bartholomew Fair 



of Court.' — CD. Cf. L. L. Lost, 4. 3. 207: 'That you three fools 
lack'd me fool to make up the mess.' 

66. 19 'In Jonson's time scarcely any ballad was printed without 
a wooden cut, illustrative of its subject. If it was a ballad of "pure 
love", or of "good life", which afforded no scope for the graphic 
talents of the Grub-street Apelles, the portrait of "good queen 
Elizabeth", magnificently adorned with the globe and sceptre, formed 
no unwelcome substitute for her loving subjects. The houses of the 
common people, especially those of the distant counties, seem to have 
had little other ornamental tapestry than was supplied by these fugi- 
tive pieces, which came out every term in incredible numbers, and 
were rapidly dispersed over the kingdom, by shoals of itinerant 
sirens.' — G. 

66. 31 Paggintons Pound. This tune more often called Pack- 
ington's Pound, is to be found in Queen Elizabeth's Virginal Book; 
also in A New Book of Tablature, 1596; in the Collection of English 
Songs printed at Amsterdam in 1634; etc. It was a country dance 
probably composed by Thomas Pagington, one of the musicians 
retained in the service of the Protector Somerset on the death of 
Henry VIII, 1547. See Chappell's Collection of National English 
Airs (London, 1838), i. 71 (for the music), 2. 113 (for the history). 

67. I This ballad with a few slight variations is included in 
D'Urfey's Pills to Purge Melancholy (1719), 4. 20, 'The Cut-Purse. 
By B. Johnson' ; the music is also given. In the Roxburghe Ballads, 
edited by J. P. Collier (1847), 271, there is 'A Caveat for Cut-Purses. 
To the Tune of "Packingtons Pound." ' Collier in his prefatory 
note makes no mention of Jonson's being the author, although from 
an allusion he conjectures it must have 'preceded the Restoration, 
and indeed the Civil Wars.' The noteworthy feature of Collier's 
'Caveat' is that following the first five stanzas, the same as found in 
our play, there are five additional stanzas, quite new ; the first of 
which is : 

The Players do tell you, in Bartholmew Faire, 

What secret consumptions and rascals you are; 
For one of their Actors, it seems, had the fate 
By some of your trade to be fleeced of late: 
Then, fall to your prayers. 
You that are way-layers, 
They're fit to chouse all the world, 
That can cheat Players; 
For he hath the art, and no man the worse, 
Whose cunning can pilfer the pilferer's purse. 
Youth, youth, etc. 

(The allusion in the first line is probably not to the play, but to the 
Smithfield Fair). Is the ballad Jonson's, with supplemental verses, 



Notes 193 

or did Jonson take part of a popular street ballad and incorporate it 
into his play? The former is much more likely; evidence amounting 
almost to proof, lies in the mention of the hangman Dun in stanza 9. 
According to Collier (cf. his prefatory note), Derrick occupied that 
office from the last years of Elizabeth's reign until 1616, and was 
then succeeded by Dun, who was the hangman for the next thirty 
or forty years. Hence, the later verses must have been composed 
some time after the original production of Bartholomezv Fair, 1614. 

67. II for and. See Glossary. 

The warning is no more severe than the punishment that was 
actually meted out to cutpurses. A hangman by the name of Grot- 
well, was himself hanged with two others, for robbing a booth in 
Bartholomew Fair during Henry VHI's time. 

67. 18, 19 Greene in The Thirde Part of Cony-Catching (1592), 
Works, 10. 161-164, gives a very close parallel to the game played 
by Edgworth and Nightingale. Two rogues took their stand in a 
crowded place and began singing ballads, which they offered for sale. 
Their confederates were among the crowd, noting 'where euerie man 
that bought, put vp his purse againe, and to such as would not buy, 
counterfeit warning was sundrie times giuen by the rogue and his 
associate, to beware of the cut-pursse, and looke to their pursses, 
which made them often feel where their pursses were.' By 
'shouldring, thrusting, feigning to let fall something, and other wilie 
tricks', they secured ten purses. Tlie ballad-singers, however, were 
suspected; the angry losers turning upon them, beat them well, and 
had them brought before the justice, before whom they were con- 
victed as accomplices. Cf. also The Winter's Tale, 4. 4. 605-630, 
where the rogue Autolycus takes advantage of the close attention 
given to the shepherdesses' songs to relieve the company of their 
'festival purses.' 

68. 25 handy-dandy. 'An old guessing game for children in 
which one player is required to guess in which hand another player 
has hidden some object.'— S^.D. Cf. Lear, 4. 6. 157: 'Change places; 
and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?' 

68. 28 Cutpurses in the London theatres not infrequently found 
opportunity for plying their trade when spectators were absorbed in 
the play. William Kemp in his Kemp's nine days' zvonder narrates 
that at Burnt Wood while performing his famous morris-dance from 
London to Norwich (1600), two cutpurses were taken into custody, 
'that with other two of their companions followed me from London ; 
as many better disposed people did. But these two dy-doppers gave 
out, when they were apprehended, that "they had laid wagers, and 
betted about my journey." Whereupon the Officers, bringing them 
to my inn, I justly denied their acquaintance; saving that "I remeni- 



194 Bartholomew Fair 

bered one of them to be a noted cut-purse :" such a one as we tie to 
a post on our Stage, for all people to wonder at; when at a Play, 
they are taken pilfering.' — Arber's English Garner, 7. 22. 

69. 8 The Rat-catchers charme. Alluded to by many con- 
temporary writers. It is described by Nares under 'Rats Rhymed 
to Death' : 'The fanciful idea that rats were commonly rimed to 
death, in Ireland, arose probably from some metrical charm or incan- 
tation used for that purpose. Sir W. Temple seems to derive it from 
the Runic incantations.' Nares refers to many passages where the 
myth is alluded to, among which are the following: Poetaster, 
Epilogue to Reader : 

Rhime them to death, as they do Irish rats 
In drumming tunes. 

Staple of Neivs, Interim after Act 4 : 'Or the fine Madrigal-man 
in rhyme, to have run him out of the country, like an Irish rat.' 
Very similar is the myth on which Browning based The Pied Piper 
of Hamelin. 

69. 23 In consideration of the immense number of rogues in Lon- 
don at this time, the term nation is rather appropriately applied to 
them. 

69. 31 he has lighted on the wrong pocket. Quarlous' attention 
is so concentrated on the purse that he either does not see, or fails to 
appreciate, that Edgworth in his thoroughness is also relieving Cokes 
of his handkerchief (cf. 70. 30). For an old woodcut, the subject 
of which is this particular scene, see Jonson's Works (1716), vol. 4, 
frontispiece. 

70. 5 And kisse not the Gallowes. Cf. 'Kiss the dust'. 

70. 22 afore your time. As though of necessity, like a thing 
appointed by fate. Cokes must sometime show that he is an Asse. 
Waspe's injunction is that he should not needlessly show himself one. 

71. 4 Away Asse, away. This is an ingenious device of Edg- 
worth's by which Nightingale can withdraw, and by taking the 
plunder to Ursula, avoid all dangerous consequences, in case that 
later he should be suspected and searched. 

71. II be benefic'd at the Gallowes. i. e. If he should receive 
as his church-living, the hangman's noose. Cokes (1. 13) carries 
the figure still further in promising him no satisfaction in his 
preferment (superior ofiice). 

72. 4 An' there were no wiser then I, etc. i. e. If I had my 
way, the opportunity for losing all your money would be given you; 
Waspe utters this in a spirit of momentary impatience and disgust. 
He resumes his plain speech and serious tone again in the next line : 
I would teach your zvit, etc. Cf. Staple of News, 2. i : 'Cen. Well, 



Notes 195 

an there were no wiser than I, I would sew him in a sack and send 
him by sea to his princess.' Also 3. 2, where the same character 
says : 'An there were no wiser than I, I would have ne'er a cunning 
schoolmaster in England.' 

72. II call me Coriat. The point of this allusion rests on 
Coryate's having started out on a second journey (1612), going to 
Egypt, the Holy Land, Persia, etc. This tour he announced would 
be of ten years duration ; he died in 1617, before its conclusion. 

72. 19 the danger of concealing. Quarlous' legal studies would 
acquaint him with this. 

72. 24 Catchpoles. Petty officers of justice under the sheriff; 
they could make arrests. The name had become an expression of 
contempt. For an interesting account of the origin of the term see 
Fairholt, Costume in Eng. 288; Fairholt's statement, however, is not 
supported by N.E.D. 

72. 28 flowne him to a marke. See note on 40. 24. 

73. 6 read word at my need. This is an allusion to the benefit 
of clergy. Many not belonging to that class found occasion to use 
it; Jonson himself escaped by this resort after the murder of Gabriel 
Spencer (cf. 19. 25 and note). The present passage, then, is equiva- 
lent to : May I receive no mercy, if ever I should be tried and 
condemned. 

73. 22 disparagement. 'Before the abolition of the Court of 
Wards in the twelfth year of Charles the Second, the heir of the 
king's tenant, holding lands in capite, was during nonage ward of 
the king, who might sell or present the right of guardianship and 
bestowal in marriage. Kings' favourites had made fortunes by 
traffic in the marrying of wealthy wards.' — Morley, Mem. 153. 'While 
the infant was in ward, the guardian, had the power of tendering him 
or her a suitable match, without disparagement or inequality; which 
if the infants refused, they forfeited the value of the marriage, 
valorem maritagii ; that is, so much as a jury would assess, or any 
one would bona fide give to the guardian for such an alliance.' 
— Blackstone's Commentaries, 2. 5. 5. 

74. 6-7 'There is excellent sense in Grace's answer. She is one 
of Jonson's few estimable females.' — G. She may be estimable, but 
she is not winning. The creation of a lovable woman was beyond 
Jonson's art. 

74. 13 is the winde there? Cf. 'Is the wind in that door?' 
(i Hen. IV, 3. 3. 102), which was a common expression, meaning 
'Is that how the case stands?' 

74. 21 The Bull with the fiue legs. Again mentioned in 118. 4. 
See note on 'Monsters', 52. 12. 



196 Bartholomew Fair 

75. 2 the Pothecaries' wife, . . . that long'd to see the 
Anatomy. Indicating a prurient curiosity. 

75. 4 to spit i' the great Lawyers mouth. Cf. Greene's Mena- 
phon, 8 (ed. Arber, 1895) : 'Oft haue I obserued what I now set 
downe; a secular wit that hath liued all daies of his life by what 
doo you lacke, to bee more iudiciall in matters of conceit, than our 
quadrant crepundios [empty talkers] that spit ergo in the mouth of 
euerie one they meet : yet those and these are so affectionate to 
dogged detracting, as the most poysonous Pasquil, anie durtie 
mouthed Martin or Momus euer composed, is gathered vp with 
greedinesse before it fall to the ground.' 

75. 13 and cut my haire. 'To express his reformation. Close 
hair was at this time the distinguishing mark of a Puritan. The 
subject of Busy's admonition is humorously marked by this inci- 
dental trait of superstitious attachment to ceremonials.' — G. 

75. 17 For long haire, it is an Ensigne of pride. Similarly 
Stubbes (p. 79) calls the ladies' scarfs, 'flags of pride.' 

75. 20 Sathan. W. A. Wright: 'Satan is thus spelt everywhere 
in Shakespeare. The form appears to have been derived from the 
Miracle Plays, for I do not find it in the printed translations of the 
Bible which were in existence in Shakespeare's time' (cited by 
Furness in T. Night, 226). 

75. 24-26 Cf. Epistle of James 3. 15. 

76. 3 how her pigge works, two and a halfe he eate to his 
share. Busy had well fulfilled his promise of eating exceedingly 
(cf. 30. 36), and in his loathing of ludaisme he had shown no half 
heartedness. Morley says : 'Tliey [the Puritans] were open also to 
a charge of gluttony. Zeal-in [of ?]-the-Land Busy ate his two pigs 
and a half to a dinner' {Mem. 201). But this is taking Knockem's 
humorous exaggeration too literally; the quantity specified is more 
than was ordered for the entire party (cf. 57. 8). 

76. 31 clapp'd fairely by the heeles. Put in the stocks, 

77. 13 Goldylocks. Busy gives this name possibly because of 
the color of her hair, as in Volpone, i. i, 'goldy-lock'd Euphorbus', 
but more likely because of her yellow gown ; there is a flower of 
the buttercup species called goldilocks, mentioned in Pan's Anni- 
versary. 

77. 14 greene sleeues. The sign of a loose woman. Cf. 99. 32 
and note. 

77. 31 'Busy, in the fury of his zeal, conceits himself a primitive 
christian, just going to be martyred for his religion: who, amongst 
the various ways of torture, were often staked upon spears, and 
forks, or pikes ' — W. 



Notes 197 

78. 3 where we list our selves. Ourselves is the intensive, not 
the reflexive. 

78. 4 loose vs. All other texts have 'lose us'. Lose was often 
confused with loose (cf. lose, CD.), and may have been the word 
intended. On the other hand, loose is the reading of the folio and 
in the sense of 'release' fits the context sufficiently well so as not to 
warrant the change. 

78. 13 what sha* call 'um. Jonson was fond of such compounds. 
Cf. Ev. Man In, i. 2: 'O, Brainworm, didst thou not see a fellow 
here in what-sha-call-him doublet?'; Alchem. 2. i: 'Dol, my lord 
What'ts'hums sister, . . .' 



ACT IV. 

79. 1 Troubleall is entirely a comic character. In introducing a 
madman, Jonson was but following a convention of the time. For 
an interesting study of the question of the comic attitude toward 
lunacy, see Corbin's The Elizabethan Hamlet, London, 1895. 
Troubleall differs from Shakespeare's Lear, fools, etc., in that his 
lunacy occasions him no suffering; he never impresses us as pathetic. 

79. 7 Oliuer Bristle. 'Bristle forgets his christian name : in a 
former scene he is called Davy [52. 8]. Perhaps the forgetfulness 
lies with Jonson. The question is of some importance, but I cannot 
decide it.' — G. 

79. 17 quit you, and so, multiply you. This is Troubleall's 
favorite expression, for the origin of which I have sought unavail- 
ingly. Can it in any way be connected with Justice Overdo's court? 
Prof. G. L. Kittredge of Harvard, in a personal note, says that he 
regards it as merely a blessing at parting. Cf. 10. 9: because a 
Mad-man cryes, God quit you, or bless you. Also Hen. V, 2. 2. 166 : 
'K. Hen. God quit [absolve] you in his mercy!' 

80. II a Seminary. Cf. 32. 17 and note. 

81. 7 ff. Haggise's hesitation in keeping his prisoner in the stocks 
may be explained by the following clause from the City's Annual 
Proclamation made by the Mayor at the beginning of the Fair : 'And 
that no manner of person, or persons take upon him, or them, within 
this Fair to make any manner of arrest, attachment, summons or 
execution, but if it be done by the officer of this City, thereunto 
assigned, upon pain that will fall thereof.' — Cited by Walford, 191. 
Overdo was being held without a warrant, on the charge of an 
unknown country squire. 



198 • Bartholomew Fair 

81. 8 a very parantory person. Parantory is probably Haggise's 
corruption of 'peremptory'. Cf. Alchem. $. 2: 

And take our leaves of this o'erweening rascal. 
This peremptory Face. 

Ev. Man In, i. 4: 'A hanger . . . most peremptory beautiful 
and gentlemanlike.' Also Ev. Man In, i. i : 'What would you do 
you peremptory gull ?' On the last, Wheatley observes : 'The word 
peremptory seems to have been greatly in favor at this time, and 
used on all occasions.' 

81. II Doe I heare ill o' that side, too? A latinism — audire 
male. The same occurs in Catiline, 4. 6 : 'And glad me doing well, 
though I hear ill.' 

81. 15 bume blew. 'To burn it blue : ? to act outrageously. 
Obsolete slang.'— A^.£.D. 

81. 26 Come, bring him away to his fellow, there, i. e. Place 
him with the other fellow. Haggise had given the word to release 
Overdo from the stocks; Pocher coming up just then, saw them 
working over the lock and supposed that they were but putting 
Overdo in. 

81. 29-33 Busy's boastful zeal sounds very much like that of 
another of Jonson's Puritans : 

Tri. Be patient, Ananias. 

Ana. I am strong, 

And will stand up, well girt, against an host 
That threaten Gad in exile. — Alchem. 5. 3. 

82. 2 doe ouer 'hem. A play on the Justice's name. 

82. 12 out of the word. 'The puritanical phrase for the scrip- 
ture.' — G. It was used, however, long before the Puritans became 
known as a party. 

83. 2 Guilt's a terrible thing. Cf. Alchem. 5. 1 : 'Nothing's 
more wretched than a guilty conscience.' Which, as Upton observes, 
is from Plautus {Mostellaria, 3. i. 14) : 'Nihil est miserius quam 
animus hominis conscius.' 

83. II Dorring the Dottrell. 'To dor the dotterel: to cajole or 
hoax a simpleton.' — N.E.D. 

83. 23 musse. A scramble, as for nuts and pennies among boys ; 
cf. Ant. and Cleo. 3. 13. 91 : 

Of late, when I cried 'Ho!' 
Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth. 
And cry 'Your will?' 

84. 2 Catherne peares. 'Catherine pear. A small and early 
variety of pear.' — N.E.D. 



Notes 199 

84. 3 for one vnder-meale. There is difference of opinion as to 
the precise meaning of this phrase. Gifford says : 'For an after- 
noon's meal, for a slight repast after dinner.' CD.: 'The chief meal 
of the day.' Nares : 'For one afternoon.' Under-meale is OE. in 
origin, undefii = middle, intervening, and m&l =z time, time for 
eating, meal. The time thus designated originally was the middle 
of the morning, nine o'clock. But it was also used of the middle 
of the afternoon, and with the indefiniteness naturally associated 
with a middle or intervening time, was further applied to half-past 
ten in the morning and to midday. In ME. we find the same loose- 
ness in its use ; cf. Chaucer, Wife of Bath's Tale, 875 : 'In under- 
meles and in morweniges' (meaning middle of the afternoon, or 
afternoons), and Clerk's Tale, 260: 'The tyme of undern of the 
same day' (meaning middle of the morning). In the present pas- 
sage it is thus hard to arrive at a definite conclusion; the under- 
meale may refer to the time, or perhaps as Gifford and CD. are 
agreed, to the meal at that time. As Grace Wellborn reminded 
Winwife and Quarlous only a little later (86. 25), that she had 
known them less than two hours — she had met them at Littlewit's 
house, before going to the Fair, as many things would indicate, about 
ten or eleven o'clock in the morning — it can not be long after midday, 
perhaps one o'clock. 

84. 10 salt, onely to keepe him from stinking. 'The same is 
said of swine by the Stoic Chrysippus, as we learn from TuUy: 
Stis vero quid habet prceter escani? cui quidem, ne putresceret, 
animani ipsam pro sale datam dicit esse Chrysippus. De Natura 
Dear. lib. 2. The application by the poet does not seem out of 
character.' — W. 'This sentiment is repeated elsewhere by our author, 



. . . . as scarce hath soul, 
Instead of salt, to keep it sweet. 



Devil is an Ass. 



And by Beaumont and Fletcher: 



. . . . this soul I speak of, 

Or rather salt, to keep this heap of flesh 

From being a walking stench. 

Spanish Curate.'' 

-G. 



84. 20 Patent . . . hee has of his place. Like the patents 
of nobility, which conferred the privilege of • monopoly, etc. The 
carrying of the box, Waspe takes upon himself because of his 
superior sense and greater carefulness. When he finally discovers 
that he has lost it (133. 11), his arrogance completely deserts him, 
and he feels that he has forfeited the right to his office. 



20Q Bartholomew Fair 

84. 22 a reuersion. A legal term, likely suggested by the figure 
of the Patent, just preceding; it is used here rather loosely, meaning 
hardly more than 'possession', or perhaps as Schmidt defines it in 
Shakespeare, 'Right or hope of future possession or enjoyment.' 

84. 27 quoth he. The antecedent of he is not evident. The pro- 
noun seems to be used in a general sense, the clause being equivalent 
to 'they call it'. 

84. 28 I'le be martyr'd for him, and in Smithfield, too. 'At 
various times also after the accession of Henry the Fourth, and 
notably during the famous days of special persecution, women and 
men were burnt alive as heretics in Smithfield, and a part of the 
Fair was held over the ashes of the martyrs. One of the first of 
these martyrs was John Bedby, a tailor, burnt in Smithfield in the 
year 1410. The martyr fires were usually kindled on that spot of 
ground outside the Priory gates, over which the lighter portion of 
Bartholomew Fair spread, the ground occupied by the holiday makers 
and the tumblers, jesters, and dancers by whom they were enter- 
tained.' Morley, M^'w. 78-79. It was not until 161 1, only three years 
before the performance of this play, that the last martyr-fire occurred 
at Smithfield. 'The victim was Bartholomew Leggatt, a pious 
Unitarian, burnt for distrust of the Athanasian and Nicene creeds by 
James the First, at the sentence of John King, newly made bishop 
of London.' — Ibid. 144. 

84. 31 choake-peares. A rough, unpalatable variety of pear. 

84. 32 I had bin better ha' gone to mum chance for you. A 
game of chance played with dice; it is mentioned by Greene (Works, 
II. 44) as one of the games at which the cony-catcher was especially 
expert. 

The predicate of this sentence presents an awkward construction. 
It may very nearly be paralleled, however, in Shakespeare ; cf. 
have i) in Schmidt. 

85. 20 wrought pillowes there, and cambricke sheetes. Not 
always had such comforts existed in England, and at this time every- 
one did not possess them. Harrison (Descript. of Eng. 240), writing 
in 1577, notes the great improvement in lodgings during his lifetime ; 
the rough mats of straw 'couered onelie with a sheet, vnder couerlets 
made of dogs-wain or hopharlots . . . and a good round log 
vnder their heads', had been mostly done away with. In his father's 
time 'Pillowes were thought meet onelie for women in childbed.' 

85. 21 sweete bags. 'Bags of sweet herbs, or perfumes. They 
were far from being unnecessary in the bedchambers of those days, 
and were usually placed under the pillow.' — G. However, cf. note 
on 55. 18, where from the statement of a Dutch, physician we may 
judge that the chambers of the English were superior to those found 



Notes 20I 

in most of the countries of Europe, and perhaps in contrast, very 
pleasing. 

86. 3 I am no she. 'I am no woman'. This is common in 
Shakespeare. 

86. 1 6 I must haue a husband I must loue. 'I must have a 
husband that compels my respect', Grace would have said, had she 
spoken more truly. Just where she fails as a woman, is that she 
does not love. She is well-born, discreet, respectable, but in emotion 
is entirely lacking. 

88. 8 my word is out of the Arcadia, then: Argalus. The 
love of Argalus and Parthenia is one of the romances of Sidney's 
Arcadia. 

88. 9 And mine out of the play, Palemon. From Daniel's 
The Queens Arcadia, according to Fleay; Gifford suggests as a 
possibility, Edwards' Palemon and Arcite, written much earlier. 

89. 18 a Northren Clothier. He is the only representative in 
our play of the large numbers that came from Halifax, Leeds, 
Huddersfield, Rochdale, Bury, etc., to bring their fabrics to the 
great cloth fair of England. Their place of business was within 
the gates of the old Priory, in the district particularly known as 
the 'Cloth Fair' (cf. note on 6. 16) ; consequently unless they left 
their goods and sought the amusements, they would not come within 
the scope of our play. 

89. 19 a Westerne man, that's come to wrastle before my 
Lord Maior. On the afternoon of Bartholomew Day, the Lord 
Mayor, attended by the aldermen in their scarlet robes and gold 
chains, rode to an appointed place in the Fair, where the mob 
wrestled before them, the victors being rewarded with prizes. 
Hentzner in his visit to London, 1598, saw and described this 
custom (cf. Morley, Mem. 138). 

89. 21 a circling boy. 'A species of roarer; one who in some 
way drew a man into a snare, to cheat or rob him.' — Nares. 
'Whether this alludes to the mode of surrounding a man, with 
drawn swords, and driving him from side to side (so familiar to 
the Mohawks of a later age,) or to the trick of irritating an adver- 
sary by giving him the lie indirectly, and so as to avoid the necessity 
of fighting if he manifested a proper degree of spirit, I am unable 
to decide. Both practices are alluded to by our old writers ; and 
the last is mentioned in more than one place by Jonson himself 
[Alchem. 3. 2]. A third species of circling occurs in the next scene: 
but this has no reference to the passage before us.' — G. 

89. 27 with her hood vpright. Tliis had about the same signifi- 
cance as in termcs of Instice, and the Stile of Authority, and is 
equivalent to 'With her assumed dignity.' 



202 Bartholomezv Fair 

90. I Concerning the speech of Puppy and the Northern Clothier, 
Professor Beers, in the essay already mentioned (cf. note on 52. i), 
has made some interesting observations : The speech of Puppy is 
the same as southern dialect, which is that used by the low class 
characters of The Tale of a Tub, also by Edgar when he assumes 
the character of a Kentish peasant in King Lear; this was the 
dialect almost invariably adopted when dramatists wished to imitate 
the speech of a rustic. Some of its features, as initial v and s 
for / and s, respectively, are still heard in the peasant speech of 
Dorset, Somerset, Wiltshire, Berkshire, and Gloucester. (Cf. 
Thomas Hardy's rustics). The Northern Clothier says meeghty, 
indicating that the gh was guttural ; / is for T am', a usage which 
Prince Lucien Bonaparte and others note as a characteristic pre- 
vailing through the northern counties of England. He uses a for 6 ; 
but incorrectly Jonson makes him say paiper = piper, and vuU = 
full, which are southern. 

Vail Cutting. For a sharp delineation by another pen, see Over- 
bury's Characters: 'A Roaring Boy'. 

It is to be noted that even late in the play, Jonson still introduces 
new characters. We do not see all of the dramatis personce until 
A. 5, Sc. 3. This accounts in some degree for the loose structure 
of the play. 

for a lift. Lift here seems to be equivalent to 'theft', though 
more commonly it denotes the thief. Cf. Greene's Conny-Catching 
(Works, 10. 118) for 'The discouery of the Lifting Law': 'Some 
base roges that lift when they come into Alehouses quart potts, 
platters, clokes, swords, or any such paltrie trash . . .' 

go. 3 the eale's too meeghty. Bale (ell), the Clothier's measur- 
ing stick; the clause is equivalent to 'The measure is too much.' 

90. 4 the staggers? ha! Whit, gi' him a slit i'the fore-head, 
etc. Almost the same remedy for staggers is suggested by Mark- 
ham, 68. 

90. 15 old Flea-bitten, thou'lt neuer tyre. 'This is a familiar 
observation of the livery stable, "A flea-bitten horse never tires." ' — G. 

90. S. D. vapours. See note on 38. 5. 

92. 16 will you minde your businesse, Sir? Attend to the 
securing of the license. 

93. 16 conserue the peace. 'Affrays, by which the 

peace may be broken or disturbed', were forbidden by the Lord 
Mayor's Annual Proclamation at the beginning of the Fair (cf. note 
on 33. 9). 

93. 31 A play on an obsolete meaning of exceeding: 'Of persons, 
actions, language, etc. : Overstepping the limits of propriety or 
custom.' — N.E.D. 



Notes 203 

94. I I would speake with you in circle. I do not know the 
exact significance of drawing a circle. Evidently with the words 
accompanying it, an insult or at least a challenge, has been given ; 
Quarlous recognizing it as such, steps into the ring. After that 
only a very specious excuse is needed for a fight. 

94. II Gather vp. See Glossary. 

94. 12 ff. Mrs. Overdo can overdo, as well as the Justice, and 
the effect is quite as funny. What she proposes here, is to send out 
against these half-drunk brawlers, the sergeant at amies, whose duty 
it was to preserve order in the House of Lords and Commons, to 
execute their warrants, make arrests, etc. ; or cause to be issued a 
writ of rebellion, given under the royal seal or by some one high 
in authority. 

94. 27 tuft taffata. 'A taffeta woven with a pile like that of 
velvet, arranged in tufts or spots.' — CD. 

94. 28 Adam Scriuener. An evident allusion to Chaucer's poem. 

94. 32 Wee be men and no Infidells. This contains a sugges- 
tion of the contempt and abuse commonly heaped upon the unpopular 
London watch. They were called anything but men, least of all 
Christians. 

95. 12 brash. Brace. 

95. 18 the man with the beard. The bearded face decorating 
the outside of the mug. Cf. New Inn, i. i : 

Or at the best some round-grown thing, a jug 
Faced with a beard, that fills out to the guests. 

95. 19 streeke vp hish heelsh. Overthrown him. 

95. 20 Gierke o' the Market. 'In every fair there was its own 
court of prompt justice, or Pie Poudre Court. Proprietors of fairs 
were authorized also to appoint a clerk to mark and allow weights, 
and to take reasonable fees.' — Morley, Mem. 22. 

95. 21 for my Lords seruice. At this time the third Lord Rich 
possessed the proprietary rights and shared the tolls of the Fair with 
the City of London (cf. Morley, Mem. 115-119, 190). 

95. 31 and't be'. A meaningless phrase, perhaps elliptical for 'An 
it be pleasing to thee.' Cf . the common 'An't please thee' ; its use 
in 1. 36 seems to be this. Whit, though a low character, is attempting 
to make a good impression on Mrs. Overdo ; here he is laboring 
to be very polite. 

95- 34 P*it vp de cloakes. Whit is bringing the lift to Ursula. 
He has been concealing the cloaks under his own garment since the 
time of the melee, when he 'gathered up'. 

97- 5 goes forward. Latinism; cf. progredi. 

97. 14 fowle i' the Fayre. 'This was a favorite joke of Jonson's 
and of half the writers of the time.' — Cun. Cf. yy. 7, 106. 4, etc. 



204 Bartholomew Fair 

97. 17 perswade this, etc. Persuade this woman (Mrs. Little- 
wit) to become a Bird 0' the game, i. e. a loose woman. 

98. II her wiers, and her tires. Wires were used to support 
the high shapes into which the hair was built (cf. citation from 
Stubbes in note on 98. 23), also the very wide ruffs, etc. Tires is 
defined by CD. : 'A coronet or frontal ; an ornament for the head : 
used loosely for any such ornament considered unusually rich.' 

98. 13 Ware and Rumford. Ware, in Herts, twenty-one miles 
from London, is chiefly famous for the great bed alluded to in 
T. Night, 3. 2. 51 ; it is also known in literature through Cowper's 
John Gilpin. Romford (there is no Rumford in England) is an old 
market town in Essex, on the Colchester road, twelve miles north- 
east of London. These places were at a convenient distance for a 
coach ride, and may have been especially frequented by the strolling 
players. 

98. 19 The readiness with which Mrs. Littlewit listens to the 
beguiling words is somewhat surprising, coming so soon after her 
alarm at being left alone with two men. 

98. 22 as honesht as the skinne betweene his hornsh. ' "As 
honest as the skin between his brows" was a proverbial expression 
and I suspect Whit's mis-statement of it is intentional.' — Cun. 

98. 23 weare a dressing, top, and top-gallant. The top and 
top-gallant are of course sailors' terms, and are used here humor- 
ously by Knockem in alluding to the prevailing fashion of wearing 
the hair very high. Cf. Stubbes (Anat. of Abuses, 67) : 'Then fol- 
loweth the trimming and tricking of their heds in laying out their 
haire to the shewe, which of force must be curled, frisled and crisped, 
laid out (a World to see!) on wreathes and borders from one eare 
to an other. And least it should fall down, it is vnder propped with 
forks, wyers, & I can not tel what, rather like grime sterne monsters, 
then chaste christian matrones.' Cf. frontispiece of the Abuses, con- 
taining a picture of Queen Elizabeth. 

99. 2 puU'd her hood ouer her eares, and her hayre through it. 
What could be more tragic than the destruction of Mrs. Overdo's 
precious French hood ! No wonder that at her next appearance she 
is hopelessly drunk! 

99. 18 Bridewell. A house in Bride Lane built by Henry VHI, 
for the reception of Charles V. In the following reign, when it was 
about to be torn down, Bishop Ridley begged it as a Workhouse for 
the Poor, and a House of Correction 'for the strumpet and idle 
person, for the rioter that consumeth all, and for the vagabond that 
will abide in no place.' King Edward VI granted his request. In 
the reign of Elizabeth and later, the gift occasioned no little incon- 
venience to the city officials because of the over-appreciation, shown 



Notes 205 

by idle and abandoned people who flocked in great numbers to that 
vicinity under color of seeking an asylum in the institution. Several 
acts were passed by the Common Council to stop such annoyance. 
The flogging at Bridewell, for offences committed without the prison, 
is described by Ward in his London Spy. 'There are no whores', 
says Sir Humphrey Scattergood, in Shadwell's play, The Woman 
Captain, 'but such as are poor and beat hemp, and whipt by rogues 
in blue coats.' — Abridged from Wh.-Cun. i. 240-243. See Dekker's 
2 Honest Whore, 5. 2, for a vivid contemporary picture of the occu- 
pants of Bridewell. 

99. 19 rid that weeke. Were carted for a bawd. 

99. 22 shall I teare ruffe, etc. Gifford aptly compares this to 
Doll Tearsheet's attack on Pistol : 'You a captain ! you slave, for 
what? for tearing a poor whore's ruff in a bawdy-house?' (2 Hen. IV, 
2. 4- 156). 

99. 32 Greene-gownes, etc. Nares says : 'The character of lady 
Greensleeves, I fear, is rather suspicious; for green was a color long 
assumed by loose women.' He quotes the present passage in support 
of his statement and refers also to 'the green gamesters' (114. 8). 
N.E.D. : 'To give a woman a green gozvn : to roll her, in sport, on 
the grass so that her dress is stained with green; hence euphe- 
mistically' ; quotations show that it was 'the supposed badge of the 
loss of virginity.' Cf. 77. 14, 98. 12. 

loi. 3-6 This offer of a share in the booty was a shrewd move 
on Edgworth's part. He saw Quarlous' strong qualifications for 
the cutpurse's profession, and knew that like most gallants he had 
little money. If Quarlous were already a gentleman cutpurse (cf. 
loi. 14), he would make a valuable partner in the business; if not, 
he might be enticed to give it a trial. Finally, it was of the greatest 
importance that Edgworth should gain his favor, and secure his 
silence; this he attempted to do with presents that without doubt 
had been stolen. 

loi. 14 Facinus quos inquinat, aequat. Cf. Lucanus, Pharsalia, 
S- 290. 

102. 23-26 Discretion is used here three times, and in three differ- 
ent senses. In 1. 23 = judgment (late L. sense of discretion ; 1. 26 
(first occurrence) = prudence (allied to late L. and Rom. discretus) ; 
1. 26 (second occurrence) = state of being separated (ancient L. 
sense of discretio) (cf. N.E.D.) . 

102. 29 a hole matter. Evidently a play on hole, the opening in 
the stocks (cf. 104. 9). There is another word of this form, a variant 
of 'hoir, meaning 'hollow, empty', which may have given a sec- 
ondary meaning. 

103. 7 the destruction of Fayres and May-games, Wakes, and 
Whitson-ales. With the exception of the May-games, each of these 



2o6 Bartholomew Fair 

celebrations originated in the Church, but like the drama had passed 
from under its supervision and control, later to encounter severe 
opposition. To understand the Puritans' reasons for attack, cf. 
Brand's Pop. Antiq. (description of the festivities of each) and 
Stubbes' Anat. of Abuses, 148-154, 182-183. Connected with them, 
were gatherings of people and considerable license ; and that meant 
knavery, gluttony, drunkenness, and social impurity. 

103. 12 I doe not feele it, I doe not thinke of it, it is a thing 
without mee. As Gifford observes, the Justice is affecting the lofty 
language of stoicism. Cf. Epictetus, Encheiridion, i. i : Twi/ tvruv to 
^iv iffriv iip'' rjfuv, ra dk ovk e0' rjixiv. 

103. 14 In te manca, etc. From Horace, Sat. 2. 7. 84-88. 
103. 17 non te quaesiueris extra. From Persius, Sat. i. 7. 

103. 23 those lists of Latin, 'i. e. Fag-ends or selvages of Latin.' 
— Cun. 

104. 2-4 Cf. I Cor. 7. 37, 16. 13; Gal. 5. i ; 2 Tim. 2. 19; 2 Pet. 

1. 10. 

104. 26 earnes. 'Apparently a variation of yearn : OE. geornian : 
cf. dialectic ear for year.' — N.E.D. It is here used impersonally in 
the sense of affecting with grief or compassion. Cf. 7. Caesar, 

2. 2. 129 : 

That very like is not the same O Caesar, 
The heart of Brutus yearns [earnes the reading of 
, folios I, 2, 3, 4] to think upon! 

105. 6 I haue a nest of beards in my Truncke. The trunk-hose 
was one of the most ridiculous fashions of this faddish age, and may 
well be compared with the women's monstrous farthingales (see cuts 
in Planche, 2. 230; CD., under trunk-hose). The immense increase 
in the amount of stuffing used at this time in the hose, owed its 
adoption, according to a contemporary writer, to the pusillanimity 
of James 1, who fearing assassination wore padded garments (cf. 
Planche, 2. 229). Dekker gives, a hint in regard to their material 
(2 Honest Whore, 3. 2) : 

Bell. Where's all his money? 

Ord. 'Tis put over by exchange ; his doublet 
was going to be translated, but for me. If any 
man would ha' lent but half a ducat on his beard, 
the hair of it had stuffed a pair of breeches by 
this time. 

'Thieves were said to conceal all their plunder in them : poor bullies 
kept their small wardrobe in the same portable repository'. — Thorn- 
bury, I. 252. 



Notes 207 



ACT V. 

106. I out with the signe o£ our inuention. Striking pictures 
of the show to be given were displayed to attract the curious. An 
excellent idea of the puppet-booth's appearance is to be had from 
a fan sold in the Fair about 1728, on which several booths, among 
other scenes of the Fair, were depicted. Copies of these pictures are 
given in Morley's Mem. 394, 395, 396, also in The Book Buyer, 19. 95. 
The banner, mentioned in 1. 6, was raised after the custom of the 
theatres, to show a play was either about to begin or already in 
progress. 

106. 3 All the fowle i'the Fayre. Cf. note on 97. 14. 

106. 8 Master Pod. Also mentioned as a producer of motions 
in Ev. Man Out, 4. 4, and in Epigram 97. 

106. 9 ff. The motions mentioned here were drolls that had been 
actually presented at the Fair. Cf. the poem of the 'Long Vacation', 
included in the first edition of Wit and Drollery, 1656 (cited by 
Morley, Mem. 318) : 

. . . man that doth in chest include 
Old Sodom and Gomorra lewd. . . . 
And shew that while the puppets play, 
Though none expounded what they say: 
And Ape led captive still in chain 
Till he renounces the Pope and Spain, 

106. 12 Shroue-Tuesday was a time of license, and the appren- 
tices' especial holiday. Thus Dekker says in the Setien Deadly 
Sinnes (Works, 2. 65) : 'They presently (like Prentises vpon Shroue- 
tuesday) take the lawe into their owne handes, and doe what they 
list.' It seems also to have been a custom for the city officials to 
search out loose women on this day, and to confine them during 
Lent. Cf. Brand's Pop. Antiq. 1. 89. 

106. 13 the Gunpowder-plot, there was a get-penny. Its long- 
lived popularity is attested by 'Bartleme Fair', a song by George 
Alexander Stevens, included in Songs, Comic and Satyrical (1772) : 

Here's Punch's whole play of the gunpowder-plot , sir. 
Wild beasts all alive, and pease-porridge hot, sir: 
Fine sausages fry'd, and the Black on the wire; 
The whole Court of France, and nice pig at the fire. 

106. 14 an eighteene, or twenty pence audience, nine 
times in an afternoone. This affords some interesting information 
regarding the size of the audiences that witnessed the puppet-shows, 
also of the length of the performance. 



2o8 Bartholomew Fair 

io6. 17 they put too much learning i'their things now o'dayes. 

This was the cause of the failure of Catiline three years before, and 
the doubt as to the success of such a play as Hero and Leander for 
the same reason may thus have been a thinly veiled satire on the 
low intelligence of the theatre-going public. Magnin, however, 
regards this as an allusion to the invasion of the classic repertoire 
by the puppet-mastei, as he produced adaptations of such plays as 
Julius Caesar and the Duke of Guise, an act which was regarded 
with considerable resentment by most of the dramatists (cf. Histoire 
des Marionnettes, 225). 

106. 24 A penny was the general charge of admission to such 
performances. 

107. 5 The Justice in his overdoing would imitate the Hebrews' 
Jehovah. 

107. 12 strucke in. Arrived, come in. 

108. 19 the second part of the society of Canters. 'Canters 
were confirmed sturdy vagrants.' — Cun. Cf. Staple of News, 2. i : 

A rogue 
A very canter, I sir, one that maunds 
Upon the pad. 

The name was also used for a talker of religious cant, and during 
the seventeenth century was especially applied to the Puritans (cf. 
N.E.D.). Both ideas are included in the word as used here. 

108. 29 to draw feasts, and gifts from my intangled suitors. 
Had she been portrayed when practicng her mercenary craft, we 
might have had a female Volpone. 

109. 7 Feoffee in trust. 'A trustee invested with a freehold 
estate in land.'~A''.£.D. 

III. 6 reducing the young man . . . from the brinke of 
his bane. A Latinism ; see reduce in Glossary. 

III. 12 Master of the Monuments. It is likely that Cokes had 
caught a glimpse of the pictures on the outside of the booth (cf. the 
signe of our inuention, 106. 2), and here is referring to them. We 
must not probe too deep for meaning in the words of the phantasicall 
Cokes. 

III. 16 The ancient moderne history of Hero, and Leander. 
'This is a burlesque on the absurd titles of some of our ancient 
dramas ; but more particularly on that of Preston's "A lamentable 
Tragedy of the life of King Cambyses, mixed full of pleasant mirth", 
etc.'— G. 

111. 20 Bankside. See note on 7. 13. 

112. 7 voluntary. Commonly used for 'volunteer'; one who, for 
services willingly undertaken, is given special privileges. Hence in 



Notes 209 

the present case, free admission to Littlewit, because of his author- 
ship. 

112. 12 you are exceeding well met. A form of salutation 
common in Shakespeare. Cf. As Y. Like It, 3. 3. 65, Mer. Wives, 
I. I. 200, M. N. Dream, 4. i. 181. 

112. 15 and by that fire. Fire of hell. 

113. 3 Call me not Leatherhead. Lest the name should lead 
Cokes to recognize the hobby-horse seller who had cozened him out 
of thirty shillings (cf. 64. 4). 

113. 6 ff. Cokes' manners may well be compared with Dekker's 
satirical advice as to 'How a Gallant should behaue himself in a 
Play-house' (The Guls Horn-Booke, chap. 6) : 'By sitting on the 
stage, you may (without trauelling for it) at the very next doore 
aske whose play it is : and, by that Quest of In'quiry, the law war- 
rants you to auoid much mistaking. . . . You shall put your 
selfe into such true scaenical authority, that some Poet shall not 
dare to present his Muse rudely vpon your eyes, without hauing first 
vnmaskt her, rifled her, and discouered all her bare and most mysti- 
call parts before you at a tauerne, when you most knightly shal, for 
his paines, pay for both their suppers. By sitting on the stage, you 
may (with small cost) purchase the deere acquaintance of the boyes : 
haue a good stoole for sixpence : at any time know what particular 
part any of the infants present : get your match lighted, examine 
the play-suits lace, and perhaps win wagers vpon laying tis copper, 
&c.' Further, cf. Collier's Annals of the Stage, 3. 406-18. 

113. 9 our Tiring-house is Somewhat little. As Ordish notes 
(E. London Theatres, 225), this with the Stage-keeper's remark in 
the Induction, to the effect that the Poet had kicked him three or 
four times about the tiring-house, may be satirical of a deficiency 
in the green-room accommodations in the new theatre. 

113. 19 the quality. 'Profession, occupation, business, esp. that 
of an actor'. — N.E.D. 

113. 26 Players minors. Children-players. 

113. 32 one Taylor, would goe neere to beat all this company. 
As Ordish observes (E. London Theatres, 225), this is an allusion 
to Taylor the Water-Poet, who a few days before had sustained the 
fiasco of a wit-combat with Fennor. The full particulars may be 
found in Taylor's Works, 142, under the title: 'TAYLORS RE- 
VENGE: or. The Rimer WILLIAM FENNOR, firkt, ferrited, and 
finely fetcht ouer the Coales.' 

113. 34 and eate 'hem all, too, an' they were in cake-bread. 
'This allusion to the voracity of tailors for cake-bread, must have 
conveyed some pleasant idea to the audiences of those times, of the 
nature of which we are now ignorant, since it is found in most of 
our old dramas.' — G. 



2IO Bartholomew Fair 

114. 4 your Field. Nathaniel Field, the actor and dramatist, 
1587-1633. His name is the first mentioned in the lists of actors 
in Cynthia's Revels, 1600, the Poetaster, 1601, and Epicoene, 1609 
(of. 1616 folio) ; according to Fleay he was a member of Lady 
Elizabeth's company, ,1613-14. Jonson is here paying him a high 
compliment in associating his name with that of the leading actor 
of the time, Richard Burbage. A similar place was given him fifty 
years later by Richard Flecknoe in his Short Discourse of the 
English Stage : 'In this time were poets and actors in their greatest 
flourish; Jonson and Shakespeare, with Beaumont and Fletcher, 
their poets, and Field and Burbage, their actors' (cited by D.N.B.). 
There is a reference to him in the Prologue of Chapman's Bussy 
D'Ambois (printed 1607) : 'Field is gone, whose action first did give 
it name — .' In the Conversations (1619) Jonson says of him: *Nid 
Field was his scliollar, and he had read to him the Satyres of 
Horace, and some Epigrames of Martiall.' ' 

114. 8 green gamesters. See note on 99. 32. 

114. II at large. Fully. 

114. 13 fieere, nor geere, nor breake iests, as the 
great Players doe. The actors commonly took great liberties 
with the text of a play and did not hesitate to insert local hits. 
A great deal of the power of Tarlton on the stage, as well as off, 
consisted in his quickness at extempore wit. See Tarlton's Jests 
in Shakespeare Jest-Books (London, 1864) : 'A jest of an apple 
hitting Tarlton on the face', 'How Tarlton and one in the gallery 
fell out', etc. 

114. 21 shakes his head like an hostler. An allusion to William 
Ostler, the actor, according to Fleay. His name is mentioned in the 
list of actors in the first folio, as playing in the Poetaster, 1601, 
Alchemist, 1610, Catiline, 1611. So little is known of him, however, 
that it is speculative to call the present passage an allusion. 

114. 22 according to the printed booke. The reference is to 
Marlowe's Hero and Leander (1598), which begins: 

On Hellespont, guilty of true love's blood. 
In view and opposite two cities stood, 
Sea-borderers, disjoined by Neptune's might; 
The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight. 
At Sestos Hero dwelt; Hero the fair, . . . 

115. 2 Puddle-wharf e. Now called Puddle Dock, at the foot of 
St. Andrew's Hill, Upper Thames Street, Blackfriars. 

115. 4 old fish-street. No longer existing under this name; the 
eastern portion was lost in the making of Queen Victoria Street, 
and the rest was merged into Knight-Rider Street. Cf. Stow's 
Survey, 129: 'In this Old Fish street is one row of small houses. 



Notes 



211 



placed along in the midst of Knightriders street, which row is also 
of Bread street ward: these houses, now possessed by fishmongers, 
were at the first but moveable boards (or stalls), set out on market- 
days, to show their fish there to be sold.' 

Trigsstayers. The Stairs have disappeared, but the name still 
survives in Trig Lane and Trig Wharf. This was the nearest land- 
ing in going up Old Fish-street Hill to Old Fish Street. 

115. 12 Hero shall be my fayring. Hero shall be my treasure 
(favorite). Cokes puts on the gallant's patronizing airs, and to 
show his familiarity with the actors, gives them pet names suggested 
by the different treasures he has bought. 

116. 12 I doubt. I fear. 

116. 16 fine fire-works. Cf. Alchem. i. i: 

And blow vp gamester after gamester, 
As they do crackers in a puppet-play. 

In speaking of fireworks in London during the reign of James I, 
Strutt says (Sports and Pastimes, 375) : 'So far as one can judge 
from the machinery delineated in the books formerly written upon 
the subject of firework making, these exhibitions were clumsily con- 
trived, consisting chiefly in wheels, fire-trees, jerbs, and rockets, to 
which were added, men fantastically habited, who flourished away 
with poles or clubs charged with squibs and crackers, and fought 
with each other, or jointly attacked a wooden castle replete with the 
same materials, or combated with pasteboard dragons running upon 
lines and "vomitting of fire like verie furies".' 

116. 32 This is a very priuate house. Among the general 
features of the private theatre, as noted by Collier (cf. Hist, of Eng. 
Dram. Poetry j 3. 335), were the smaller size, protection of the whole 
by a roof, seats in the pit, and an audience of much higher character. 
Thus in the first three points, the puppet-booth was, indeed, like a 
private theatre, though it is only as a bit of humor that Edgworth 
speaks of it as such to the credulous Win. 

116. 34 doe so all to be Madame mee. Cf. Cynthia's Revels, 
4. i: 

Ods my life, how he does all-to-hequalify her ! 

Also Magnetic Lady, i. i : ' . . . and all-to-be-laden with 
miracles.' 

117. 2 The masks and green gowns disguised the women, and 
by preventing the Justice from recognizing them at this time, made 
possible the final surprise. Masks were not uncommon in 1614, but 
were by no means the convention of the following reign, when a 
woman seen at a public occasion without a mask was considered 
barefaced and immodest. Cf. Jonson's lines, 'To Mr. John Fletcher 
upon his Faithful Shepherdess': 



212 Bartholomew Fair 

The wise, and many-headed bench, that sits 
Upon the life and death of plays and wits, 
(Compos'd of gamester, captain, knight, knight's man, 
Lady or pucelle, that ivears mask or fan. 

117. 27 will stay for nere a Delia o'hem all. An allusion to 
Samuel Daniel's sonnet-cycle Delia, published in 1592, which was 
for a long time very popular. Fleay considers the character of 
Littlewit as satirical of Daniel, but there is little ground for such 
a conjecture. He is mentioned twice in the Conversations (1619) : 
'Samuel Daniel was a good honest man, had no children; but no 
poet'; 'Daniel was at jealousies with him.' 

118. 6 Vxbridge Fayre. Held at Uxbridge, fifteen miles north- 
west of London. The custom of taking exhibits, curiosities, and 
shows from one fair to another seems to have been common, just 
as to-day in the New England village fairs. 

118. 36 In addition to the discussion already given to the Puppet- 
play (see Sec. 3 of Introduction), something may be said on the 
metho3 of performance. There were two kinds of plays; the first, 
in which the 'interpreter' gave a running commentary on the action, 
all in his own person, — for examples see the motion in Tale of a Tub, 
A. 5, or better Don Gayferos and Melisandra in Don Quixote, part 2, 
chap. 26; the second, in which the interpreter, disguising his voice 
or using ventriloquism, gave the dialogue as though spoken by the 
puppets — our play is an example of this latter class. Leatherhead is 
without question the motion-master in Hero and Leander, but there 
is a difference of opinion in regard to the operation of the puppets. 
Thus Flogel in his Geschichte des Grotesk-Komischen, 126, says: 
'Ein zweites Puppenspiel, welches Ben Johnson's Bartholomew fair 
beschliesst, ist dagegen ganz verschieden, denn hier sprechen die 
Puppen selbst, d.h. durch einen hinter den Coulissen versteckten 
Mann, der iibrigens eben so gut wie der, welcher vor der Biihne 
befindlich ist, den Namen Interpreter fiihrt'. But Collier {Punch 
and Judy, 20) remarks on the same play : 'The exhibitor standing 
above and working the figures, "interprets" for them, and delivers 
the burlesque dialogue he supposes to pass between the characters.' 
Now while the method of performance most generally employed 
required an assistant, concealed in the puppet-booth, to work the 
figures and speak the dialogue, in the present play Leatherhead, 
to use his own words, is 'the mouth of them all' ; it is he who 
does the talking, and the text makes quite as evident that he is 
visible to the audience. Flogel in his explanation, then, is incorrect. 
But, on the other hand, in considering Collier's theory, it should be 
remembered that the puppets twice assault Leatherhead, strike his 
pate, and cry 'to pink his guts', making it evident that he is not 



Notes 213 

standing wholly above them. The only practical way of operating 
the puppets, consistent with the hints given in the text, requires 
that Leatherhead stand within the booth, his head and shoulders 
appearing behind and above the stage, and that from this position 
he perform his twofold labor. 

118. 37 amorous Leander. Cf. Marlowe: 

Amorous Leander, beautiful and young, 
(Whose tragedy divine Musaeus sung,) 
Dwelt at Abydos. 

119. 7 seeing Leanders naked legge, and goodly calfe. Cf. 

Marlowe : 

His body was as straight as Circe's wand ; 

Jove might have sipt out nectar from his hand. 

Even as delicious meat is to the tast, 

So was his neck in touching, and surpast 

The white of Pelops' shoulder: I could tell ye, 

How smooth his breast was, and how white his belly. 

119. 8 a Sheepes eye, and a halfe. Nares : 'To cast a sheep's 
eye, to look amorously or wantonly.' Cf. Cartwright's Ordinary : 

If I do look on any woman, nay. 

If I do cast a sheeps eye upon any. (cited by Nares). 

119. II Cole, Cole, old Cole. 'Bartholomew Fair was first acted 
in 1614, and yet we have an allusion to this part of it in the 
Satiro-mastix, which appeared in 1602 : 

"Horace. I'll lay my hands under your feet, Captain Tucca. 

Tucca. Says't thou me so, old Cole. Come, do it then: yet, 'tis no matter, 
neither; I'll have thee in league first with these two rollypollies; they shall 
be thy Damons and thou their Pithiases." Act i. 

As Horace is known to be meant for our author, there can be no 
doubt, I think, that the reference was to this interlude of Damon 
and Pithias : it would seem, therefore, that it had been exhibited at 
an early period as a simple burlesque and that Jonson was induced 
by its popularity to recast it, and with the addition of Busy and 
some other characters, to interweave it with the present drama. 
However this be, the idea of introducing it was most happy, the 
execution at once skillful and diverting, and the success complete. 
Old Cole is used by Marston in the Malcontent (1604), which is 
dedicated to our author ; the term therefore must have been familiar 
to the stage : another proof, perhaps, of the celebrity of this little 
piece, at a period long anterior to Bartholomew Fair.' — G. Later 
in the Satiro-mastix-, Horace is called the 'puppet-teacher'. 



214 Bartholomew Fair 

120. 4 Swan. Probably a tavern in Old Fish Street. It is not 
to be identified with the 'Swan', Charing Cross, much frequented 
by Jonson, but nearly a mile distant. 

120. 21 Hogrubber. 'Hog Grubber: A mean stingy fellow.' 
— Lex. Balat. 

Pickt-hatch. A noted resort of prostitutes and pick-pockets, at 
the back of the narrow turning now called Middle Row, opposite 
the Charter House wall. Cf. 'Character of the Persons' preceding 
Ev. Man Out : Shift. 'A thread-bare shark ; one that never was a 
soldier, yet lives upon lendings. His profession is skeldring and 
odling, his bank Paul's, and his warehouse Pict-hatch.' Also Mer. 
Wives, 2. 2. 20. Middleton laid the scene of his Black Book at 
Pict-hatch, and it is probable that the satirist Nash died there. 

120. S. D. The Puppet strikes him ouer the pate. The puppet- 
sculler with his coarse language and violent manners, is representa- 
tive of the three thousand and more watermen who plied the 
Thames. Cf. Thornburyj i. 59: 'The waterman, or water-rats, as 
they were called in jest, were greater extortionists than our own 
cabmen, diligent and civil till they got a passenger into their boat, 
but scurrilous and violent if their unjust charge of fare was refused. 
If the passenger were a servant or an apprentice, they would stop 
his hat or cloak for the money ; their pay being two-pence out of 
every twelve they could get. Sometimes they caught a tartar, got 
their heads broke, and their proper fee refused. They used to sit 
in noisy knots on the water stairs, waiting for fares, and disputing 
for them when they came. . . . They were famous for their 
coarse wit, and were formidable by their number and spirit of 
cooperation.' 

121. 4 hee shall be Dauphin my boy. Cf. Lear, 3. 4. 104: 
'Dolphin my boy'; Furness {Variorum ed.) cites a note by Steevens 
on an old ballad, of which this was the burden. 

121. 16 'It was the fashion not only for the puppets of the text, 
but for those of flesh and blood, to introduce themselves to strangers 
with a propitiatory cup of wine, which preceded their appearance. 
There is a story told of bishop Corbet and Jonson which illustrates 
this practice, and is at the same time so characteristic of both, that 
it has every appearance of being genuine. "Ben Jonson was at a 
tavern, in comes bishop Corbet (but not so then) into the next room. 
Ben Jonson calls for a quart of raw wine, and gives it to the tapster. 
^Sirrah !' says he, 'carry this to the gentleman in the next chamber, 
and tell him I sacrifice my service to him.' The fellow did and in 
those terms. 'Friend,' says bishop Corbet, 'I thank him for his 
love, but prithee tell him from me that he is mistaken, for sacrifices 
are always burnt.' " Mery Passages and leasts. Harl. MSS., No. 
6395.'-G. 



Notes 215 

121. 25 a dead lift. 'A desperate emergency.' — CD. 

121. 26 a nine dayes wonder. 'A subject of astonishment and 
gossip for a short time, generally a petty scandal.' — CD. Cf. 
Chaucer's Troilus, 4. 588 : 

For when men han wel cryed, than wol they roune ; 
A wonder last but nyne night never in toune. 

122. 5 pufFe with him. 'Vapor', bully him. 

123. 5 Gifford sees in this squabble a burlesque on that of Jack 
and Wj'lle in Damon and Pithias. The resemblance, however, is so 
slight as to make it highly improbable that our author had this in 
mind. The scene referred to has not a decided enough character 
to make it a good subject for burlesque. 

123. 20 with a hone and honero. Cunningham cites a manu- 
script note of Dyce's, 'This was uttered, I imagine, in a lamentable 
tone, in imitation of an Irish howl.' Cf. An Bartholomew Fairing, 
a Royalist pamphlet of 1649, quoted by Morley {Mem. 198) : 

Stand off, make room, give way, for I come Post, 
My Fairings do run wild from the Irish Coast; 
Poor Cram a Cree untrouz'tl, O hone .' O hone ! 
Hath lost his cows, his sheep, his Bagh, all's gone. 

124. 13 setting their match. Making their appointment. Cf. 
I Hen. IV , I. 2. 119. 

124. 15 a candles end. Cf. Marlowe: 

[Hero] Who with all speed did consecrate a fire 

Of flaming gums and comfortable spice, 

To light her torch, which in such curious price 

She held, being object to Leander's sight 

That naught but fires perfum'd must give it light. 

124. 26 Dunmow-bacon. Diuimow is a small village of Essex, 
'formerly the seat of a priory remarkable for the custom of present- 
ing a flitch of bacon to any couple who could satisfy a jury of six 
bachelors and six maidens that they had spent the first year of 
married life in perfect harmony, and had never at any moment 
wished they had tarried.' — Encyc. Brit. The custom dates from the 
reign of John. It was revived in 1855 (cf. Chambers' Book of 
Days, I. 748). 

124. 28 Westphalian you should say. Cf. Marston's Malcon- 
tent, 4. I : 'The buff-captain, the sallow Westphalian gammon-faced 
zaza cries "Stand out." ' Westphalian ham and bacon are still 
celebrated. 

125. I Sir Knaue out of dore. This is very similar to a line of 
Edwards' Damon and Pithias (Stephano to Carisophus) : 'Out, sir 
knave, or I wyll send yee.' 



2i6 Bartholomew Fair 

125. 16 Puppet-Ionas and Cupid. Cupid inserted for rime; 
only one puppet (cf. 123. 35). 

126. I Downe with Dagon. Cf. i Samuel 5. 2-5 ; also a broad- 
side written about 1660 (cited by Morley, Mem. 235) : 'The Dagoniz- 
ing of Bartholomew Fayre caused by the Lord Majors Command, 
for the battering downe the vanities of the Gentiles, comprehended 
in Flag and Pole, appertayning to Puppet-play. . . .' 

126. 17 Shimei. Cf. 2 Samuel 16. 5-13. 

126. 18 Master of the Reuell's haud. After 1606 all plays 
before production had to undergo examination of the Master of 
Revels (cf. Fleay, Hist. Eng. Stage, 166). 

126. 21 thou dost plead for Baal. Cf. Judges 6. 31. 

126. 23 I haue gaped as the oyster for the tide. Gifford 
remarks: 'A satire upon the low, familiar, and profane jargon of 
the Puritans in their public prayers and preaching. A specimen of 
it is given by Eachard in his Contempt of the Clergy. "Our souls 
are constantly gaping after thee, O Lord, yea, verily, our souls do 
gape even as an oyster gapeth." ' 

126. 26 Good Banbury-vapours. See note on 14. 24. 

127. 17 assist me zeale, fill me, etc. Busy's invocation of the 
muse. 

127. 28 lawful! Calling. Cf. Ephesians 4. 1-4. 

128. 3-10 Coleridge notes: 'An imitation of the quarrel between 
Bacchus and the Frogs in Aristophanes' (cf. Frogs, 258-264). Selden 
commented on this same passage in his Table Talk, 164 (ed. Oxford, 
1892) ; he regarded it as satirical of the heated controversies of the 
divines, where arguments of similar weight were bandied between 
them. 

128. 21-25 The Puritan feather-makers of Blackfriars were the 
subject of much satire. Cf. Randolph's Muse's Looking Glass, i. i* 

Mrs. Flotvarde'w. Indeed it something pricks my conscience 

I come to sell 'em pins and looking-glasses. 

Bird. I have their custom too for all their feathers: 

'Tis fit that we, which ar€ sincere professors, 

Should gain by infidels. 

Marston's Malcontent, Induction : 'This play hath beaten all our 
gallants out of the feathers : Blackfriars hath almost spoiled Black- 
friars for feathers.' 

128. 22 perrukes. Not to be confused with the long periwigs, 
very fashionable beginning with the reign of Charles IL The 
perukes of 1614 were false hair worn by men and women, as occa- 
sionally to-day ; the term was also applied to a single lock or a 
set of ringlets. Actors wore them; cf. T. G. of Ver. 4. 4. 196, 
Com. of Errors, 2. 2. 76, Hamlet, 3. 2. 10. Stubbes (Anat. of 



Notes 217 

Abuses, 68) tells of poverty-stricken women selling their hair, also 
of pretty children lured into secret places and robbed of their locks. 

128. 23 puffes. 'A strip of some fabric gathered and sewed 
down on both edges, but left full in the middle.' — CD. Cf. Coryate's 
Crudities, i. 41 (ed. 161 1, reprinted London, 1776) : 'The Switzers 
weare no Coates, but doublets and hose of panes, intermingled with 
Red and Yellow, and some with Blew, trimmed with long Puffes 
of Yellow and Blewe Sarcenet rising vp betwixt the Panes.' 

their fannes. Made of a few large feathers or plumes, and used 
merely for ornament. Cf. Gosson's Pleasant Quippes for Upstart 
Gentle Newfangled Gentlewomen (1596) : 

Were fannes, and flappes of feathers fond. 

to flit away the flisking flies, 
As taile of mare that hangs on ground, 

when heat of summer doth arrise. 

The wit of women we might praise. 

For finding out so great an ease. 
But seeing they are still in hand, 

in house, in field, in church, in street. 
In summer, winter, water, land, 

in colde, in heate, in drie, in weet, 

I judge they are for wives such tooles 

As babies are in playes for fooles. 

128. 32 Dagonet. Evidently a perversion of Dagon of the pre- 
ceding line. Concerning the legendary person of this name, cf. 
Nares : 'Sir Dagonet was said to be the attendant fool of king 
Arthur. . . . "And upon a day sir Dagonet, king Arthur's foole, 
came into Cornewaile, with two squiers with him." Hist, of K. 
Arthur, 4to, 1634, 2d p., N2.' See Tennyson's The Last Tournament. 

128. 35 and the Female of the Male. This would seem to indi- 
cate that there were women-actors at this time, and Fleay in his 
notes on Bartholomew Fair has queried, 'Who were they?' How- 
ever, the fact that in the many attacks made by the Puritans on the 
stage, in which they constantly denounced the male actors for putting 
on the dress of women, they did not allude to the reverse, is good 
proof that such was not a custom. Deuteronomy 22. 5 suggests an 
explanation of Busy's charge : 'The women shall not weare that 
which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's 
garment : for all that do so are abomination unto the Lord thy God.' 
Only one half of the verse applied to the general practice of the 
stage. It was thoroughly in keeping, however, with Busy's zeal and 
inspired ignorance to use the whole verse and make the charge a 
double one. 

On February 28, 1615, John Selden wrote to Jonson about this 
same passage in Deuteronomy, undoubtedly with reference to the 
present allusion. The letter covers four large folio pages and 



2i8 Bartholomew Fair 

exhibits an erudition that is almost appalling (of. Works, London, 
1726, 2. 1690-1696) ; it begins : 'Thus ambitious am I of your love, 
but of your judgment too. I have most willingly collected what you 
wished, my notes touching the literal sense and historical of the 
holy text usually brought against the counterfeiting of sexes by 
apparell.' In these notes Selden shows that the verse was not 
intended to apply to actors or plays, but to forbid certain magical 
or idolatrous rites, such as practiced in the worship of Dagon, 
Astarte, etc., when often the males appeared in female dress, and 
females in male. See also Selden's Table Talk, 134, note. 

Prynne in Histrio-Mastix devotes thirty-nine pages to the sin of 
the 'womanish and effeminate apparel' of the stage (see small 
quarto ed. 1633, p. 178 ff.) ; also citation in Stubbes (p. 303) from 
R. Cleaver's Exposition of the Ten Commandments. 

129. 13 I am confuted. 'It appears from D'Urfey that this 
defeat of the Rabbi was a source of infinite delight to the audience. 
The triumph of Dionysius, however, was of a transient nature ; and 
he was confuted, in his turn, with more effectual weapons than those 
of "demonstrations". This is beautifully touched by Lord Buck- 
hurst, in the epilogue to Tartuffe : 

Many have been the vain attempts of wit 

Against the still prevailing hypocrite: 

Once, and but once, a poet got the day, 

And vanquished Busy in a puppet play! 

But Busy rallying, filled with holy rage, 

Possessed the pulpit, and pulled down the stage.' — G. 

129. 19 carryed it aw^ay. 'Carried the day.' — N.E.D. Cf. Ham- 
let, 2. 2. 2>77 ■■ 

Guil. O, there has been such throwing about of brains. 
Ham. Do the boys carry it aivay? 

129. 22 I Adam Ouerdoo! All editions subsequent to the first 
folio insert 'am' after /. But a comma following /, makes the 
emendation quite unnecessary. 

130. S. D. To the Cutpurse, and Mistresse Litwit. The stage 
directions placed in the margin of the 1631 folio are carelessly writ- 
ten, and evidently not by Jonson. / xvill take charge of you, and 
your friend too, the punctuation notwithstanding, can only have been 
addressed to the supposed Troubleall and Dame Purecraft. The 
remaining clause beginning you also, young man, is spoken to the 
cutpurse; Mrs. Littlewit is not addressed, being reserved for a later 
'discovery'. 

130. 10 with our birds. Cf. 97. 18. 

130. 19 stepp'd aside. Wandered and become lost; not the 
common figurative significance of departing from the path of right. 



Notes 219 

130. 22 Et digito compesce labellum. Equivalent to 'Be silent.' 
From Juvenal, Sat. i. 160: 'Cum veniet contra, digito compesce 
labellum.' 

130. 23 sadly worry. Sorry in earnest. Cf. Chaucer's Ship- 
man's Tale, 76; Much Ado, 2. 3. 228. 

131. 9 looke vpon mee, O London. Is not the overdoing, over- 
done? 

131. II Mirror of Magistrates. See note on 9. 31. 

131. 27 Redde te Harpocratem. Equivalent to 'Commit your- 
self to secrecy.' This figure was common among the Latin poets. 
Cf. Catullus, Carmen, 74. 4: 'Patruum reddidit Harpocratem'; also 
102. 4. Harpocrates (Horus) was the Egyptian god of the sun, the 
son of Osiris. He was said to have been born with his finger on 
his mouth, indicative of secrecy and mystery (Smith's Class. Diet.). 
Cf. 130. 22 and note. 

131. 28 stand by my Masters, be vncouer'd. As though he 
were leading some stately procession, and called upon the people to 
remove their hats at the approach of the dignitary. Perhaps he had 
this phrase from Justice Overdo's court. 

132. 24 I should think it were better, recouering the goods, 
and to saue your estimation in him. A poor construction for the 
author of The English Grammar. 

132, 25 I thank you, Sir, for the gift of your Ward. In this 
point of the denouement Jonson suddenly breaks away from the 
extreme realism which so strongly characterizes the play. In no 
law court would the signature of the guardian. Justice Overdo, 
gained in the way it was, be considered binding. The successful 
trick may well be compared with the forfeiture of the bond in The 
Merchant of Venice. 

132. 32 neuer feare me. Never be apprehensive for me. Cf. 
L. iimere alicui. 

133. 2 like a stake in Finsbury. Finsbury Fields, the open tract 
north of Moorfields, much more extended than at present. They 
were long kept open and entire for the practice of archery, and 
later became the grounds for the muster and exercise of the military 
company. While yet open, they were marked out for the use of 
archers with wooden posts for target or standing practice, and with 
stone pillars for long practice or roving. — Abridged from Wh. Cun. 
Cf. D'Avenant's The Long Vacation in London : 

« 

Do each with solemn oath agree, 
To meet in fields of Finsbury : 
With loins in canvas bow case tide; 
Where arrows stick, with meikle pride. • 



2 20 Bartholomew Fair 

133. 3 get your wife out o'the ayre. Remove your wife from 
public exposure; (there possibly may be a suggestion of the literal 
as well: i. e. get her out of this air — the foul air of the booth). 
The same phrase is to be found in Hamlet, 2. 2. 209; also cf. 1. 185 
of the same scene, where Hamlet advises Polonius in regard to his 
daughter : 'Let her not walk i' the sun' (Let her not be exposed to, 
or mingle with, the world). 

133. 18 I inuite you home, with mee to my house, to supper. 
The ending with a general invitation to dinner or supper, is com- 
mon; perhaps it was suggested by the Roman comedy; cf. Plautus' 
Rudens, Curculio; also Alchem., Devil is an Ass; Middleton's A 
Trick to catch the Old One, A Mad World, My Masters, A Chaste 
Maid in Cheapside. 

133. 20 Ad correctionem, etc. Cf. Horace, Epist. i. i. 100: 
'Diruit, aedificat, mutat quadrata rotundis.' Also Sallust, Catiline, 
20. 12 : 'Nova diruunt, alia sedificant.' 

The Epilogue. On the day after its first performance, or Novem- 
ber I, 1614, Bartholomew Fair was presented at Court before the 
King. It would be interesting to know if it pleased James. It is 
evident from the Prologue that Jonson counted on touching a sym- 
pathetic chord at least in the satire of the Puritans. But how was 
the ridicule of popular reformers, embodied in Overdo's preachment 
on tobacco, among his other extravagancies, received by the author 
(was it still a secret?) of the Counterblast to Tobacco? Was there 
no offense taken at the humiliation of the city magistrate? Was it 
recognized as a jest at the expense of the Lord Mayor? As one 
considers these very natural questions, a passage in the Conversa- 
tions appeals strongly to the imagination ; Drummond says : 'To me 
he read the preface of his Arte of Poesie, upon Horace ['s] Arte of 
Poesie, wher he heth ane Apologie of a play of his, St. Bartholomee's 
Faire.' Unfortunately the Apology was destroyed by fire, and no 
other reference to it remains. 

Bartholomew Fair was revived after the Restoration and became 
extremely popular. The celebrated actors, Nokes and Wintersel, in 
different presentations, took the part of Cokes. Pepys saw it 
several times, and was present on the first occasion of its new 
production, June 8, 1661, when it was played without the puppet- 
show. On September 7 of the same year, in the presence of the 
King, the entire play was given. Pepys, who was among the audi- 
ence, notes : 'And here was "Bartholomew Fayre", with the puppet- 
show acted to-day, which had not been these forty years (it being 
so satyricall against Puritanism, they durst not till now, which is 
strange they should already dare to do it, and the King do counten- 



Notes 



221 



ance it), but I do never a whit like it the better for the puppets, but 
rather the worse'. Somewhat different is his observation as he saw 
it three years later (August 2, 1664) : ' . . . as it is acted, the 
best comedy in the world, I believe'. His final judgment, however, 
seems to be that already cited in the Introduction ; it is to be found 
in the entry for September 4, 1668, when he saw it played still again 
— this time in order to humor Mrs. Pepys: 'It is an excellent play; 
the more I see it, the more I love the wit of it; only the business 
of abusing the Puritans begins to grow stale, and of no use, they 
being the people that, at last, will be found the wisest'. 



222 



Bartholomew Fair 



GLOSSARY 



This glossary aims to include all words that are archaic, obsolete, 
colloquial, cant, etc. Words, however, that Jonson used in a peculiar 
sense merely for the nonce, as well as many others, unusual to the 
general reader, yet to be found in standard dictionaries as in good use, 
are dealt with in the Notes. Etymology is adduced only when it throws 
light on a peculiar form, or illustrates Jonson's classical tendencies. At 
least one reference is uniformly cited, indicating the page and line where 
the word occurs in the text. 



A, prep. In some one's name. 
76. 17. 

Aduance, v. To extol. 79. 29. 

Aduis'd, pp. Reflected. 81. 9. 

Againe (against), prep. In an- 
ticipation of. 12. 19. Conj. Against 
the time that, before that. 60. 28. 

Agone, adv. Ago. 32. 16. 

Allow, V. [L. adlaudare.] To 
commend, approve. 134. 2. 

Allurant, a. Alluring, enticing. 
9. 14. 

Amaze, v. To perplex, bewilder. 
88. 31. 

Amended, pp. Healed, cured. 
55- 22. 

Ames-ace, n. Ambs-ace, both, 
aces, the lowest possible throw at 
dice. II. II. 

Anatomy, n. A body or subject 
for dissection. 75. 3. 

And, conj. If. 5. 24; 6. 14. 

Angerly, adv. Angrily. 23. 8. 

Argument, n. A subject-matter 
for discussion. 59. 21. 

Artillery, n. Implements of war ; 
in a broad sense including swords, 
pikes, etc. 112. 29. 



At, prep. To. 72. 10. 

Aunt, n. An old woman, gossip. 
36. 34; 37- 7- 

Avoyd, V. To go away. 48. 20. 

Baboun, n. A baboon. 46. 19. 

Baby, n. A doll, 'Prologue' (cf. 
note). 

Bason, n. A basin. 132. 11. 

Beadle, n. The public whipper. 
loi. 12. 

Bickering, n. A skirmish. 126. 

25- 

Bile, M. [ME. bile, from OE. 
byl.] A boil. 81. 15. 

Bird, n. A familiar character 
haunting a certain place. 5. 14 ; 34. 
8 (cf. note on 5. 14). 

Blacke pot, n. A beer-mug. 
32. 2. 

Blood, n. A 'buck', a 'fast' or 
foppish man. 56. 25. 

Booke-holder, n. A prompter. 
6. 23. 

Braue, a. Finely-dressed, grand. 
47. 27 ; 48. I. 

Bridale, n. A wedding feast. 
18. 31- 



Glossary 



223 



Bride-man, n. One of the young 
men who with the bridesmaids as- 
sisted in the ceremonies of a wed- 
ding. 64. 15. 

Bring, v. To escort. 81. 26. 

Broach, v. To pierce, stab. 28. 

25- 

Broke, v. To trade. 19. 11. 

Broker, n. A pander, pimp, in- 
termediary. 45. 4. 

Bumm, n. The buttocks. 102. 5. 

Carroch, «. A stately coach. 
60. 23. 

Carwhitchet. n. A pun, quibble. 
106. 5. 

Cawdle, n. Caudle. 18. 8. 

Censure, n. Judgment, criticism. 
8. 4. V. To judge, criticise. 8. 10. 

Chapman, n. A customer, mer- 
chant. 42. 9. 

Cheap, Cheapen, v. To bargain 
for. 60. 25 ; 63. 2. 

Circling boy, n. A swaggering 
bully. 89. 21 (cf. note). 

Commit, v. To match, bring to- 
gether in a contest. 127. 22. 

Commodity, n. A quantity of 
wares. 10. 21 (cf. note). 

Conceit, n. An idea, device. 30. 
2. Conceipt, An opinion. loi. 23. 

Conceited, pa. Whimsical. 5. 
10. 

Condition, conj. On condition 
that. 121. 29. 

Conscience, n. Sense, no. 30. 

Conuince, v. [L. convincere, to 
overcome.] To overcome, over- 
power. 12. 2. 

Come, n. A hard grain or par- 
ticle. 12. 17. 

Costard-monger, n. A vender 
of fruit ; commonly applied to a 
seller of apples, but here of pears. 
'Persons of the Play.' 



Couer, V. To copulate with (ap- 
plied to stallions). 96. 17. 

Countenance, n. Appearance, 
pretense. 126. 13. 

Counterpaine, n. The counter- 
part of an indenture (Law). 7- lO- 

Coyle (coil), n. Bustle, fuss, 
turmoil. 20. 27; 26. 26. 

Cracke, v. To boast. 71. 36. 

Crowne scabbe, n. A disease of 
horses. 47. i (cf. note). 

Cry, V. To beg, beseech for. 
102. 13. 

Cunning man, n. A fortune- 
teller. 14. 6 (cf. note). 

Dead, a. Having lost its virtue. 
23- 10. 

Death, interj. More often, 
'Sdeath' ; a corruption of the oath, 
'God's death.' 51. 16. 

Delicates, n. pi. Luxuries, de- 
lights. 13. 8. 

Detect, V. To expose (a per- 
son) by making known his guilt. 
72. 18. 

Dibble, n. 'PMoustache' 

(N.E.D.). 38. 28. 

Dier, n. Dyer. 115. 2. 

Discipline, n. The system by 
which the practice of a church is 
regulated, especially applied to that 
of the Puritans. 28. 9. 

Discretion, n. Judgment. 38. 
23 ; 102. 23. 

Disease, n. Uneasiness, discom- 
fort. 29. 20. 

Disparagement, n. Marriage to 
one of inferior rank. 73. 22 (cf. 
note). 

Dor, zr. To make a fool of. 83. 
II. 

Drollery, n. A comic play, pup- 
pet-show. 9. 19. 



224 



Bartholomew Fair 



Earn, v. To grieve. 104. 26 (cf. 
note). 

Eder-oder (either other), pro. 
One or the other. 117. 11. 

Enuy, V. To begrudge. 13. 8. 

Equall, 0. [L. cBquns.] Fair, 
just. 88. I. 

Equipage, n. Dress, state. 9. 9. 

Errant, a. Arrant. 19. 11. 

Exceeding, pa. 'Overstepping 
the limits of propriety, or custom' 
(N.E.D.). 93- 31- 

Except at, v. To take exception 
to. 43. 12. 

Fall, V. To settle down : used of 
anything heated or swollen. 43. 28. 
Fall in, Become reconciled. 16. 27. 

Famelick, a. [L. famelicus, 
hungry.] Pertaining to hunger. 
56. II. 

Faucet, n. A contemptuous ap- 
pellation for a tapster. 34. 20. 

Fidge, V. To fidget. 25. 3. 

Flasket, n. A shallow basket. 
77. 18. 

Flaw, V. To make drunk. 123. 

34- 

Flea, V. To rid of fleas. 35. 6. 

Flead, pp. [OE. flean, to flay.] 
Flayed. 61. 30. 

Flower-de-lice, n. The fleur-de- 
lis. 48. 35- 

For, prep. With respect to. 14. 
32. For and, conj. And moreover. 
67. II. 

Fore-right, adv. Directly for- 
ward. 54. 23. 

Fore-top, n. 'The lock of hair 
which grows upon the fore part of 
the crown, or is arranged ornamen- 
tally on the forehead' (N.E.D.). 
98. 24. 

Forme, v. To state formally, 
loi. 21. 



Forsaken, pp. Refused, rejected. 
88.6. 

Fox, n. A sword. 49. 8 (cf. 
note). 

Game, n. Amorous sport. 'Per- 
sons of the Play.' 

Gamester, n. A merry, frolic- 
some person. 'Persons of the Play.' 

Garded (guarded), pp. Edged 
with lace, or protected by facing. 
43- 7- 

Gather, v. To address to flight: 
used of a hawk. 69. 30; 94. 11. 

Geere, n. Stuff. 44. 4 (cf. note). 

Geere, v. To jeer. 114. 13. 

Gentles, n. pi. Gentlefolks. 122. 8. 

Get-penny, n. Anything that 
brings money, especially a new play. 
106. 13. 

Gib-cat, n. A male cat. 22. 29. 

Gip, inter). 'Get out.' 23. 20 (cf. 
note). 

Glister, n. A clyster; an intes- 
tinal injection. 21. 8. 

Gods so, inter}'. An oath, fre- 
quently written 'ods so', from 'od- 
zooks', a corruption of 'God's 
(Christ's) hooks', referring to the 
nails of the Cross. 63. 3. 

Gossip, n. [OE. godsibb: god, 
God, and sib, related. From the 
original meaning, sponsor, came a 
second meaning, a familiar acquaint- 
ance, and from this, the common 
significance of to-day.] Companion, 
fellow. 12. 23; 82. 3. 

Gouernour, n. 'One .who has 
charge of a young man's education, 
occupations; a tutor, especially of 
a prince or young noble' (N.E.D.). 
72. 27. 

Graines, n. pi. 'The capsules of 
Amomum Meleguetta of Western 



Glossary 



225 



Africa used as a spice and in medi- 
cine' (N.E.D.). 90. 8. 

Gramercy, interj. Many thanks. 
96. 28. 

Ground, n. The pit. 6. 27. 

Hanch, n. A haunch. 125. 12. 

Hand, n. Condition. 22,. 5. 

'Heart, interj. An oath, con- 
tracted from 'God's heart.' 48. 13. 

Hight, pp. Called. 114. 29. 

History, n. A story represented 
dramatically, iii. 17. 

Honest, a. Chaste. 17. 15. 

Home-thumb, n. 'A horn on 
the thumb . . . used to receive 
the edge of the knife with which 
purses were cut' (Morley, Mem.). 
38. II. 

Hornsh (horns), n. pi. 'Cuck- 
olds were fancifully said to wear 
horns on the brow' (N.E.D.). 98. 
22. 

Horse-courser, n. A jobbing 
dealer in horses. 'Persons of the 
Play.' 

Hoy-day, interj. Hey-dey. 16. 

34- 

Huff, n. Arrogance. 128. 23. 

Humor, n. A characteristic 
mood. 5. 13. 

I, interj. Aye. 14. 10; 19. 4. 

lacobus, n. The current (but 
not official) name of an English gold 
coin, struck in the reign of James I ; 
valued at about 20 s. (N.E.D.). 

94- 4- 

lewes trump, n. Jews' harp. 
62. I. 

Ignorant, n. An ignorant per- 
son. 108. 17. 

Impertinently, adv. Contrary to 
reason. 87. 7. To no purpose. 
lOI. 18. 



Inconuenience, n. An absurdity. 
42. 25. 

Incubee, n. [A distortion of in- 
cubus.] A term of reprobation. 
35- 22. 

Inginer, n. A designer. 33. 16. 

InoviT, a. Enough. 27. 7. 

Into, prep. Unto, to. 5. 23. 

loll, n. [MnE. jowl.] 'Seems 
to have been the established word 
for a fish's head' (Cun.). 44. 12. 

lordan, n. A chamber-pot. 95. 
36. 

loy, V. To give joy to. 76. 3. 

Itch, z/. [Var.oieche,MnE.eke.] 
Itch it out = eke it out. 35. 30. 

lusticer, n. One who admin- 
isters justice. 81. 9. 

Kemb'd, pp. Combed. 15. 3. 

Knocking, pa. Forcible, deci- 
sive. 59. 12. 

Knot, n. A flower-bed of fanci- 
ful design. 34. 24. 

Leave, i'. To cease. 17. 16. 

Leere, a. Looking askance, leer- 
ing. 9. 8. 

Lesse, conj. Unless. 68. 18. 

Lien, pp. Lain. 122. 19. 

Lift, n. A theft. 90. i (cf. 
note). 

Like, V. To be agreeable to, 
please. 64. 8. 

Lime-hound, n. A dog used in 
hunting the wild boar; a limmer. 

15- 17- 

Lincke, n. Lint. 17. 18. 

Lye (lie), z/. To dwell. 84. 36. 
To sleep. 113. 24. 

Mallanders, n. A disease of 
horses, affecting the skin of the legs. 
47. I. 

Mart, n. Traffic. 40. i. 

Maruell, a. Marvellous. 82, 25. 



226 



Bartholomew Fair 



Mary, interj. The ME. form of 
the oath, 'marry.' 23. 20. 

Maryhinchco, n. A disease of 
horses. 55. 22 (of. note). 

Meditant, a. Meditating. 9. 12. 

Meet, a. Even. 37. 29. 

Melicotton, n. A large kind of 
peach. 13. II. 

Mickle, a. [OE. micel.] Great. 
106. 19. 

Mis-take, v. To take wrongly, 
steal. 36. 5 (cf. note). 

Moderate, v. To act as mod- 
erator. 18. I. 

Moneth, n. [OE. mdna'S.'\ 
Month. 31. 27. 

Monster, n. A thing to be won- 
dered at, a prodigy. 52. 12. 

Motion, n. A puppet-show; 
motion-man, The exhibitor. 27. 20. 

Mum chance, n. A game of 
hazard. 84. 32 (cf. note). 

Murther, n. Murder. 51. 30. 

Musse, n. A scramble, as for 
nuts and pennies among boys. 83. 

23- 

Neere, adv. Nigher. iii. 22. 

Neighbour, n. An intimate, 
companion. 103. 36. 

Noise, n. A company of musi- 
cians, especially of fiddlers. 62. 15. 

Od's foote, interj. An oath, cor- 
rupted from 'God's (Christ's) foot.* 

99- 12. 

Of, prep. For. 77.9- On. 81.9. 

Offer at, v. To make an attempt 
at, essay. 58. 2. 

On, prep. Of. 5- 8. For. 12. 8. 

Ouerparted, pp. Given too diffi- 
cult a part. 61. 11. 

Painefull, a. Painstaking, labo- 
rious. 14. 25. 

Pannier-man, n. 'In the inns of 
court, formerly a servant who laid 



the cloths, set the salt-cellars, cut 
bread, waited on the gentlemen in 
term time,' etc. (CD.). 45. 9. 

Patience, n. Sufferance. 17. 31. 

Patrico, n. The hedge-priest or 
orator of a band of gypsies or beg- 
gars. 51. 26. 

Perssv^ray, v. To mitigate. 48. 
24. 

Pick-packe, n. Something on 
the back or shoulders like a pack. 
so. S.D. 

Pinnace, n. A prostitute or pro- 
curess. 35. II. 

Pitch'd, pp. Transfixed. 22. 33. 

Pizzle, n. The penis. 118. 5. 

Plouer, n. A loose woman. 97. 
16. 

Poesie, n. A motto or senti- 
mental conceit, frequently engraved 
on a ring or other trinket. 64. 16. 

Pothecary, n. An apothecary. 
21. 8. 

Proffer, v. (Law) To offer to 
proceed in an action. 73. 26. 

Prophesie, v. To preach, ex- 
hort. 30. 36. 

Pull'd, pp. Plucked, cheated. 
84. 16. 

Punque, n. A prostitute. 6. 9. 

Purchase, n. Plunder, booty. 
40. 17; 46. 30. 

Quaile, n. A prostitute. 97. 17. 

Quality, n. The profession of an 
actor. 113. 19. 

Quib, n. A quip, gibe. 11. 17. 

Quiblin, n. A quibble. 11. 14. 

Quitter bone, n. A disease of 
horses. 47. 2 (cf. note). 

Raze, V. To erase. 109. 22. 

Reduce, v. [L. reducere, to lead 
back.] To lead or bring back. 
III. 6. 



Glossary 



227 



Respectiue, a. Respectable, 
worthy of respect. 16. 34. 

Retchlesse, a. Reckless. 72. i. 

Right, a. Genuine. 18. 10. 

Roarer, n. A bully, a swagger- 
ing tavern-frequenter. 'Persons of 
the Play'. 

Roguy, a. Knavish. 22. 36. 

Roundell, n. One of the round 
holes in the stocks. loi. 35. 

S'blood, interj. An oath, cor- 
rupted from 'God's (Christ's) 
blood'. 48. I. S'lud. 42. 23. 
S'lood. 86. 6. 

Scabbe, w. A mean, dirty fel- 
low. 122. 24. 

Scape, V. To escape. 11. 14. 

Scourse, v. To trade, swap. 
60. 20. 

Scratches, n. A disease of horses. 
47. I (cf. note). 

Scarchant, a. 'Searching: a 
jocose word formed after the her- 
aldic adjectives in ant' (CD.). 

9- 13- 

Sent, n. Scent. 15. 18 (cf. 
note). 

Set in, V. To make an attack. 
65. 10. 

Sincere, a. [L. sincerus, sound, 
pure.] Pure, unmixed. 56. 26. 

Sirrah, n. Fellow : used in anger 
or contempt. 36. i. 

Skinke, v. To draw, pour out. 
36. I. 

'Slid, interj. An oath, contracted 
from 'God's eyelid'. 12. 23. Gods' 
lid. 59. 24. 

S'light, interj. An oath, con- 
tracted from 'God's light'. 47. 21. 

S'lood, {v. S'blood). 

S'lud, {v. S'blood). 

Spic'd, pp. Made fastidious or 
dainty. 18. 30. 



Splene, n. Mood. 19. 9. 

Spoile, n. Ruin. 106. 18. 

S'pretious, interj. An oath, con- 
tracted from 'God's precious (body, 
blood, or nails)'. 23. 16. 

Stain'd, pp. Impaired. 16. 5. 

Stale, V. To urinate : said of 
horses and cattle. 100. 13. 

State, n. An estate. 18. 9. 

S[t]ringhalt, n. 'An irregular, 
convulsive action of the muscles of 
the hind legs in the horse' (Billings, 
Nat. Med. Diet.). 55. 22. 

Superlunaticall, a. Extremely 
insane. 131. 17. 

Sute, n. A suit. 49. 31. 

Tabacconist, n. One who smokes 
tobacco (not the seller). 48. 26. 

Tables, n. pi. A pocket tablet, 
memorandum-book. 87. 21. 

Take, v. To give or deliver. 
22. 36. 

Tarriar, n. A delayer. 26. 35. 

Taw'd, pp. Flogged. 99. 17. 

Taxed, pp. Censured. 31. 3. 

Then, conj. Than. 14. 36. 

Thorow, prep. Through. 62. 13. 

Thrid, n. Thread. 32. 4. 

To, prep. For. 56. 29. With. 

73- 17- 

Token, n. A farthing. 39. 15 
(cf. note). 

Tokenworth, n. A farthing's 
worth. 13. 30. 

Touch, V. To rob. 89. 13. 

Toy, n. A fancy, caprice. 63. 9. 

Trauell, n. An effort, labor. 41. 
10. 

Trendle tayle, n. Trundle-tail; 
a curly-tailed dog. 45. 11. 

Trillibub, n. Tripe; fig., any- 
thing trifling or worthless. 17. 7. 

Trow, V. To suppose, think. 
63- 23. 



228 



Bartholomew Fair 



Tuft taffata, n. An expensive 
dresscloth. 94. 27. 

Tyring-house, n. The dressing- 
room. 6. 5. 

Valour, n. [ME. valour, from 
late L. valor = value.] Value, 
worth. 102. 27. 

Vapour, n. and 7/. (See note on 

38. 5). 

Vnder-meale, n. A time of the 
day. 84. 3 (cf. note). 

Vndertake, v. To engage with. 
127. 8. 

Voluntary, n. One admitted 
without charge. 112. 7 (cf. note). 

Vpon, adv. At once, anon. 5. 2. 
Prep. Against. 14. 17. 



Waimb (womb), n. [OK.wambj 
the belly.] Belly, stomach. 92. 19. 

Whether, pro. Which. 22. 11. 

Witnesse, n. A sponsor. 18. 35. 

Wrastle, v. To wrestle. 89. 19. 

Wusse, V. [Early MnE. dial. 
form of wis.] 'A spurious word, 
arising from a misunderstanding of 
the Middle English adverb iwis, 
often written i-wis, and in the Mid- 
dle English manuscripts i wis, I wis, 
whence it has been taken as the 
pronoun I with a verb wis, vaguely 
regarded as connected with Tifit' 
(CD.). 21.8; 67. 21. 

Zeale, n. Zealot. 19. 12. 



Bibliography 229 



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Index 



233 



INDEX 



Adams, 141. 
Allot, Robert, 136. 
And, 139. 
Andronicus, 144. 
Apostle-spoons, 153. 
Apple-john, 152. 
Aqua coelestis, 151. 
Archdeacon's court, 147. 
Arches, 138, 147. 
Arsedine, 168. 
Arthur of Bradley, 170. 
Aunt, 171. 

Babies = dolls, 136. 

Ballads, 167, 192. 

Banbury, 150, 154. 

Bankside, 142. 

Bartholomew, spelling of, 135. 

Bartholomew Fair (the play), char- 
acters, xviii ; date, 142 ; dialect, 
184, 202; editions of the text, 
vii-x; general features of the 
comedy, xii-xx; Leigh Hunt's 
criticism, xiii;local allusions, 163; 
Pepys' comments, 220; plot, xiv- 
xviii ; puppet-play, xvi-xviii ; real- 
ism, xix, 219; a study of English 
social history, xx; Swinburne's 
criticism, xiii. 

Bartholomew Fair (the Smithfield 
Fair), character of its visitors, 
160 ; a cloth fair, 141 ; duration 
of, 166; history, x-xii; wrestling 
at, 201. 

Bears at the Hope, 142. 

Bedchambers, English, 200. 

Bedlam, 150. 

Bermudas, 182. 



Birds, Bartholomew, 138. 
Bobchin, 189. 
Bradley, Arthur of, 170. 
Bridewell, 204. 
Brome, Richard, 138, 166. 
Bucklersbury, 158. 
Budge Row, 147. 
Buff, 152. 

Canters, 208. 

Catchpoles, 195. 

Changeling, 168. 

Choke pears, 200. 

Cicero, 170. 

Circling boy, 201, 203. 

Cloister, the Fair, 156. 

Cloth fairs, English, 141. 

Cokeley, 190. 

Cokes, meaning of name, 159. 

Cole, 213. 

Coltsfoot, 169. 

Comfortable bread, 176. 

Commodity swindle, 146. 

Cony, 174. 

Coryate, Thomas, 190, 195. 

Cow Lane, 150. 

Cranion-legs, 160. 

Cross and pile, 157. 

Crown scab, 179. 

Cucking-stool, 178. 

Cunning man, 149. 

Cutpurses, 178, 179, 181, 182, 193. 

Dame Annis the Clear, 187. 
Davy, little, 138. 
Delia, Daniel's, 212. 
Dibble, 173. 
Disparagement, 195. 



234 



Bartholomew Fair 



Dorring the dotterel, 198. 
Drawing after, 152. 
Dunmow bacon, 215. 

Eggs on the spit, 156. 

Elder, 150. 

Elizabeth's Servants, Lady, 135. 

Epictetus, 206. 

Epidaurian serpent, 163. 

Fans, 217. 
Feathers, 148, 216. 
Ferret and cony, 174. 
Field, Nathaniel, 210. 
Finsbury, 2ig. 
Fireworks, 211. 
Fly at a mark, 175. 
Foundring, 173. 
Fox = sword, 181. 
French, hood, 158. 

Gear, 177. 
Gib-cat, 157. 
Gloves, wedding, 191. 
Goldylocks, 196. 
Goshawk, 176. 
Grasso scoured, 173. 
Green gowns, 205. 
Ground, 142. 

Handsell, 171. 

Handy-dandy, 193. 

Harpocrates, 219. 

Harrow, 147. 

Hedge bird, 178. 

His, joined with a noun, 154. 

Hobby-horse, 167. 

Hodge, 157. 

Hog grubber, 214. 

Hone and a honero, 215. 

Hope Theatre, 142, 146, 209. 

Horace, 206. 

Horse-courser, 137. 

Hum-ha-hum, 153. 

Humors, 138. 



I. B., 13s. 

Induction, its personal note, 137. 

Inns of Court, 140. 

Jack, 147, 186. 

Jeronimo, 144. 

Joan, 166. 

Jones, Inigo, 167. 

Jonson, Ben, a possible allusion to 
his duel with Spencer, 155 ; spell- 
ing of name, 135. 

Jordan, 173. 

Juggler, with ape, 139. 

Juvenal, 219. 

Kind-heart, 139. 

Lay aboard, 188. 

Lift = theft, 202. 

London watermen, 214. 

Lord Mayor, Jonson's satire of, 163. 

Lotteries, 144. 

Low Countries, allusions to, 177. 

Lubberland, 187. 

Lucanus, 205. 

Lynceus, 163. 

Magistrates, Jonson's satire of, 163, 

180. 
Making and marring, 157. 
Mallanders, 179. 
Mark, 156. 
Marlowe's Hero and Leander, 213, 

215- 

Marrow-bone man, 151. 

Martyrs in Smithfield, 200. 

Mary gip, 158. 

Maryhinchco, 187. 

Masks, 211. 

May-poles, 154. 

Melancholy, 175. 

Mermaid inn, 147. 

Mess, 191. 

Middleton, The Family of Love, 

XXX. 



Index 



235 



Mirror for Magistrates, 145. 
Mitre inn, 148. 
Monsters, 185. 
Moon-calf, 168. 
Morefields, 148. 
Morris-dance, 154. 
Muss, 198. 

Nativity water, 149. 
Nightcap, 186. 
Northern clothier, 201. 
Numps, 156. 

Ostler, Wm., 210. 

Paggington's Pound, 192. 

Painful eaters, 153. 

Pannyer Alley, 153. 

Parcel-poet, 167. 

Patrico, 183. 

Pauls. See St. Paul's. 

Peck, mouth of a, 183. 

Peircing, spelling of, 163. 

Pepys on Bartholomew Fair, 220. 

Peremptory, 198. 

Persius, 206. 

Perukes, 216. 

Pie Corner, 161. 

Pie-powder court, 165. 

Pimlico. 148. 

Plague, 177. 

Pluck a hair of the same wolf, 152. 

Poesy, 191. 

Possibility, 152. 

Pox, 179. 

Proclamation by City of London, 

166. 
Proctor, 137, 151. 
Profanity, 145. 
Prophecy, 162. 
Puffs, 217. 
Puppet-plays, xvi-xviii, 207, 208, 

212. 



Puritan, the play of the, xxx. 

Puritans, their loathing of Juda- 
ism, 162. 

Puritans, Jonson's satire of their 
cant, xxiii, xxvii ; dishonesty, 
xxvi, xxix; dress, xxiii, xxvii; 
hypocrisy, xxvii ; narrowness and 
intolerance, xxiv, xxviii; scrupu- 
losity, xxiv ; Jonson's moderation 
in his attack, xxxi ; his real feel- 
ing towards, xxxi-xxxiii. 

Quarreling lesson, 182. 
Quitter-bone, 179. 
Quit you, etc., 197. 
Quorum, 163. 

Rabbi, significance of title, 162. 

Rag-rakers, 151. 

Randolph, The Muse's Looking 

Glass, xxx. 
Ranger, 137. 

Rat-catcher's charm, 194. 
Reversion, 200. 
Romford, 204. * 

St. Paul's, 147. 

Sathan, 196. 

Satire of the public, Jonson's, 143; 

satire of the Lord Mayor, etc., 

see Lord Mayor, Magistrates, 

Puritans, Shakespeare. 
Scratches, 179. 
Seminaries, 164. 
Sent := scent, 152. 
Servant-monster, 145. 
Shakespeare, Jonson's satire on 

Much Ado, 141 ; Tempest and 

Winter's Tale, 145. 
Shrove Tuesday, 207. 
Signs, street, 136, 158. 
Smithfield, dirt of, 146; pond, 178; 

martyrs, 200; origin of name, 

186; see Bartholomew Fair. 



236 



Bartholomezv Fair 



Spanish lady, 147. 

Spectators at the theatres, 143. 

Spinner = spider, 153. 

Splay-foot, 152. 

Starch, the Puritans' prejudice 

against, 155. 
Stone-Puritan, 188. 
Stourbridge Fair, 141. 
Streights, 182. 
Sweating sickness, 177. 
Sweet singers, 151. 
Sword and buckler, 138. 

Take soil, 151. 
Tarlton, Richard, 140. 
Tartuffe, Moliere's, 162. 
Taylor, the Water-Poet, 209. 
Theatres, price of admission, 143; 

private, 211. 
Three Cranes inn, 147. 
Tobacco, 169, 180, 181, 182. 
Token, 174. 
Tottenham, 152. 
Trigstairs, 211. 
Trillibub, 152. 



Troubleall, 197. 
Trunk-hose, 206. 
Turnbull, 137. 
Tusk, 173. 

Under-meal, 199. 
Unexcepted at, 144. 
Upon, used adverbially, 137. 
Ursula, 168. 

Vapors, 172. 
Velvet-custard, 156. 
Virgil, 189. 
Vocation, 151. 
Voluntary, 208. 

Ware, 204. 
Watch, the city, 141. 
Wellborn, Grace, 201. 
Wench, 174. 

Whetstone, George, 159. 
Whit's brogue, 184. 
Whimsy, 175. 
Windgall, 179. 



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